The Stone House Cats
by Marstri
Summary: Complete, just cleaning up some formatting. A romance for Remus, a touch of mystery, a houseelf for the Weasleys, and a birthday party for Harry, who has to plan a wedding!
1. Another Vision

Author's note: With gratitude for J.K. Rowling, who created the wonderful world of Harry Potter and so many intriguing characters for us to play with - strictly for amusement and not for profit. The original characters and the rest are my own, and not to be redistributed.

The PG rating was selected for a few fairly oblique references to adult matters later in the story. While this does contain an eventual romance for Remus, it is _very_ slow to develop, and any readers hoping for something either speedy or explicit should search elsewhere.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus unconsciously straightened his shoulders as he dismounted his broom and faced his home. In some ways, the outside didn't look terribly different from the way it did when his parents had lived here, but his keen eyes immediately picked up on all the flaws – the dining room window frame was loose, the Preservative Charm he'd placed on the paint was overdue for renewal, the garden was nearly wild and undoubtedly overrun with gnomes – and he suppressed a sigh.

He walked up the steps, adding to his mental list as he went – crack in the front walkway, loose board on the third step, his mother's venomous tentacula had crept over the porch railing and wrapped itself around a post – and stopped to pull out his key. A chilly breeze reminded him that fall was coming quickly. At least he didn't need to bring the porch furniture in for storage, he told himself philosophically. He'd never brought it out at all this year.

He stepped into the front hall and forced himself to look around without flinching. The dust covers gave everything a gray, formless appearance in the dim light. He pushed the door shut behind him, and the light grew even dimmer. He pulled out his wand, and said "Lumos" softly, but clearly.

"Huh?" came a murmured grunt from behind a dust cloth in the front hall. "Who's there?" a voice barked, more loudly this time. Remus smiled slightly and strode forward to pull the cloth away from the portrait, revealing an elderly wizard with tousled white hair in olive green dress robes of an earlier time.

"Remus, boy, where have you been?" he demanded gruffly, not quite hiding his pleasure in seeing his only living relation as he pulled himself up from his dozing position within the frame and regarded Remus sternly from under lowered brows.

"Hello, Uncle Bertie," Remus greeted him fondly. "How have you been?"

"How do you think I've been?" Bertie grumped at him. "Alone in this place for months at a time, not a living soul for company – " he broke off to glare at Remus " – and you only stopping by long enough to see if the house is still standing and then taking off again, and that so long ago I was half convinced you'd forgotten the address!"

"I'll be coming back here for a while again," Remus told his uncle quietly.

"Really?" Bertie demanded, sitting up and tugging excitedly at his robes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I do." Remus looked away for a moment, not sure if he could say it even now. "Sirius is dead." Bertie didn't speak, and after a moment Remus managed to look back at the portrait and meet the quick sympathy in the painted eyes. "It happened a while ago, but, well, there were things to take care of, and I wanted to spend some time with Harry later in the summer, so – " he shrugged and thrust his non-wand hand into the pocket of his robes. "But Harry and the others are safely back at Hogwarts now, so I guess it's time for me to come back."

"Oh, Remus," the sympathy came through in the rough, grumbly voice. "I'm sorry, lad."

"It was – quick." He felt a sudden welling of too-familiar pain, and changed the subject abruptly. "So, any trouble here I should know about?" he queried lightly.

Bertie obligingly allowed Remus to redirect the conversation and replied in the same spirit, "I'll give you the list when you've a quill and enough parchment to take it down with. You're lucky the roof is still intact – " he grimaced expressively " – well, mostly."

"Well, it sounds like I won't be bored," Remus parried with a smile.

Looking back on this remark later, Remus wished it had a bit more prescient. Oh, he was _busy_ enough in many ways. He couldn't spare the funds to have work done for him, or to purchase the pre-made charms, potions, or enchanted objects that would have eased it considerably. That meant he had to do most of it himself.

He set about the task of making the house more livable methodically. The first night, he had started removing the dust covers from the main rooms and his own bedroom. It wasn't as though he would need any guest rooms in the near future. He cleaned the dust covers and stored them with a simple Preservative Charm before getting to work on his old bedroom. There wasn't much he could do about the worn mattress, but basic Scouring Charms cleared up the worst of the dust. He was dismayed by how little improvement the lack of dust made in the color of the curtains, coverlet, and bed hangings, all of which were badly faded. Unwilling to tackle the kitchen the first night, he went to bed without dinner.

Knowing the kitchen would be an all-day project, despite being only a fraction of the size of the one at Grimmauld Place, he moved Uncle Bertie's portrait in there first thing the following morning to provide a distraction. Bertie was actually one of his great-uncles – or possibly a great-great-uncle – but Remus had been especially fond of him since his early childhood, when Uncle Bertie had advised him on how to snag chocolate biscuits from the protected pantry.

Bertie was just as helpful in the kitchen now that Remus was older. His uncle really did give him a list of things that needed to be attended to in the house, which saved Remus from having to spend time making a preliminary inspection. Uncle Bertie was also willing to offer advice, some of which was very helpful – "No point in trying to sort through _those_, boy, Preservative Spell failed a long time ago, just chuck 'em out and move on," – although some of it was less so.

Even the advice that he really didn't need – Remus had already planned to take care of the stove first so he could fix himself a hot lunch – was still obscurely comforting, and midway through that first long afternoon he felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude that he had been born a wizard. He didn't know how Muggles got through times like this without even a portrait to speak to them.

Once he got the kitchen mostly in order, he tackled his bathroom, discovering to his dismay that Uncle Bertie had not overestimated the deterioration in the pipes. After patching together what he could, he started on the rest of the house, deciding to begin in the drawing room and work his way around the ground floor clockwise.

When he tired of working indoors, he went to work outside instead, weather permitting, starting at the front stoop. He proceeded clockwise outside as well, a decision which allowed him to postpone tackling the venomous tentacula.

The approach of the first full moon since his return required him to stop work on his father's study, of which he was rather fond, to attend to cleaning out the room in the cellar he had used for his transformations when he lived here as a child. He was not at all fond of that room, but he managed to get through the necessary cleaning, and the subsequent full moon, with whatever grace he was able to muster. As soon as it was over, he resolutely dismissed it from his mind and returned to working on his father's study as though the unpleasant interlude had never happened.

As the weeks passed and he continued to work steadily through his initial list, he found that, much to his dismay, he seemed to be adding items to it almost as quickly as he crossed them off, even though he deliberately did not include some items on the parchment scrolls he used to keep track of what needed to be done. There didn't seem to be any point in writing it down if he couldn't think of any way to fix the problem, at least not without large outlays of gold Galleons and silver Sickles he simply didn't have. He just kept working through the items he could address, telling himself that at least he was making progress.

Although that was probably true, it did nothing to relieve the boredom of his days. Most of the chores that needed to be done were mind-numbing – sheer, repetitive mental labor. For an active, inquisitive intellect, it was a somewhat banal torture, but Remus bore it as best he could, knowing he needed to become accustomed to this existence that was less than a full life.

He was embarrassingly pleased when he received a letter from Dumbledore as fall deepened. It was only a short note – Dumbledore didn't say much in the letter for security reasons – with a quick summary of the Ministry's relevant activities since Remus had returned home, which rather made him wonder if Dumbledore knew that the impoverished former professor had refrained from incurring the expense of a subscription to _The Daily Prophet_.

Remus had maintained his contacts with the Order of the Phoenix and continued to attend meetings, but he had not taken an active role in the missions since Sirius' death. He hadn't needed to feel guilty about this over the summer, as it was clear that Dumbledore wanted him to regard Harry as his first priority, but with Harry back in school, he should probably start looking for an opportunity to be of more service to the Order.

From what he heard during the meetings the rest of the team could use the assistance. They seemed to have had an extraordinary string of missteps in recent missions. Sentries suffered from bizarre mishaps while on duty. Sturgis Podmore, who was still only slowly recovering from his time in Azkaban, was stung by a Billiwig, a magical creature none of them had seen outside of Australia. Hestia Jones had to withdraw from the duty roster for a week after being bitten by a Malaclaw, and Arthur Weasley had a difficult time of it one night coping with a Chizpurfle infestation which had gotten out of control remarkably quickly.

A number of the members of the Order found themselves being tailed by Pogrebins, to the point where Dumbledore reminded them all during a meeting what precautions to take against the diminutive Russian demons. Remus reproached himself for finding this all somewhat depressing rather than viewing it as a sign that he himself needed to do more to support the rest of the team.

The note from Dumbledore also reminded him that he had not heard from Harry in a while, and so, mentally castigating himself for not owling Harry sooner, he dispatched a carefully composed letter. What should have been a simple query about how Harry was doing felt rather indecent; the loss of Sirius was still too raw. Remus tried to word it so that Harry could interpret it as an inquiry about how things were going at school without foreclosing a response about Sirius if Harry chose to write about him.

Harry's answer came fairly quickly, on a day when Remus was de-gnoming the garden. He had just retrieved another squirming gray gnome from its burrow and looked up to decide where to aim this one when he caught sight of a snowy white owl. He froze in place, staring fixedly at the approaching owl to see if it really was Hedwig, while the gnome he was holding aimed a vicious kick at his elbow. Fortunately he didn't drop the indignantly squirming creature, and, having been recalled to the present, he whipped it around swiftly a few times and sent it soaring through the air just before the owl reached him.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed in happy recognition, accepting his letter and tearing it open. The snowy owl settled on his shoulder and he paused politely. "Can I get you something first?" Remus asked, and Hedwig butted him gently in response, which he interpreted to mean that she could wait while he read Harry's letter.

Remus scanned it all the way through very quickly looking for anything that would be a cause for alarm. It was rather ridiculous – Harry couldn't say anything very significant anyway in case the letter was intercepted, and Dumbledore would certainly have informed him, albeit not by owl post, if anything had happened to Harry – but he couldn't help worrying just the same. It was a nice long letter, reassuringly normal at first glance – classes, Ron and Hermione, Quidditch – with just a short reference to Sirius at the end. Relieved, Remus started back to the house, Hedwig fluttering happily along side.

In the kitchen, he quickly set out a bowl of water and a small plate of food for Hedwig, who hooted her thanks as she settled down on the kitchen table, and then sat down to read Harry's letter through again properly. Harry was still having problems in Potions – Remus frowned, knowing what it had cost Minerva to get Severus to admit Harry to Advanced Potions without a high enough O.W.L. – which, reading between the lines, seemed to have more to do with the tension between Harry and the Potions Master than with the work itself. Harry was perfectly capable of doing well in Potions if he would concentrate his mind on it and stop letting Severus get to him. Remus read on.

Ron and Hermione were about the same, if Harry's comment on their continued bickering meant what he thought it did. Harry was back on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their Seeker, with Ginny Weasley, who was now also a prefect, moving to one of the Chaser positions. Harry was pleased to be back on the team ("I really missed it, and I sleep better after a good hard practice") Dumbledore having lifted Harry's lifelong ban. The Weasley twins, although no longer at Hogwarts, seemed to regard their own permanent Quidditch bans as badges of honor and, upon hearing of the restoration of Harry's eligibility, had sent him their congratulations and an earnest plea that he make sure Dumbledore did _not_ modify their own status in any way.

Fred and George sent this request in their own newly-invented – and still unnamed – variation on a Howler. This missive, which was bubble-gum pink in color, had delivered their amplified message accompanied by a background swelling of magical laughter increasing in volume until the end, when the whole thing exploded in a sudden shower of tiny, pastel bubbles which filled the Great Hall before suddenly vanishing.

Without warning, everyone who was there at the time was overcome with giggles, from little Dennis Creevey who roared away happily further down the Gryffindor table to the normally sullen Professor Snape ("He was tittering furiously, I've never seen anything like it," Harry wrote). The charm apparently lasted only a short time, the effect vanishing as suddenly as the bubbles had before any of the teachers could rectify the problem.

The Gryffindors' first Quidditch match of the season would be coming up in a matter of weeks – Harry noted the date in his letter – and led into the only reference to Sirius ("I hope I'll be back in good form by then. Sirius said once that I flew as well as my father did, but he never got to see me play last year. I don't want to let Gryffindor down.").

Finishing the letter, Remus leaned back in his chair, his eyes resting absently on Hedwig, who had finished eating and was now grooming herself busily. Frowning, he quickly calculated the moon cycle and decided it would be safe enough, even it was still not normally done. And yet, if perhaps –

"Hedwig, would you mind taking a letter to the Headmaster for me?" he asked.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Harry, carrying his broom and flanked by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, headed down the steps outside the main entrance and toward the Quidditch pitch. He felt the familiar knot of excitement in the pit of his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd been able to play in a real match. Getting back into practices had been good, although the feeling wasn't quite the same. The heavy weight he was carrying – his godfather's death, the prophecy – seemed to affect everything he did no matter how much he tried not to let it. Nevertheless, flying was still one of the most enjoyable things in his life, and he was grateful to have it back. If only he hadn't lost almost a whole year because of that woman!

Brushing the thought away angrily, he shifted his attention to the argument behind him.

"Honestly, Ron, I don't know how you expect to get through Advanced Astronomy if you're still having trouble finishing a simple star chart," Hermione was saying with an edge of irritation in her voice. "I am _not_ going to stay up to help you tonight, I have other plans."

"What other plans?" Ron demanded. "How – "

"Is that Professor Lupin?" Ginny interrupted. All four of them stopped immediately, and Ginny held her hand over her eyes so she wouldn't have to squint into the sun. Harry stared hard into the distance.

"I think it is," Harry exclaimed, excited. "I want to go say 'Hi' to him."

Ron blinked, but obligingly turned back toward the lawn. Hermione caught his sleeve, looking significantly at Ginny.

"Really, Ron, you know it takes you forever to get into your Quidditch robes and we've only got a few minutes," Ginny interjected. "We'd better get going, but tell him we said 'Hi' too."

Hermione nodded approvingly as Ginny took hold of Ron's arm very firmly and steered her brother toward the changing rooms. "Tell him I'll be sitting with the Gryffindors, and we hope he can join us and watch the match," she told Harry, before slipping away into the large crowd headed for the viewing stands.

Harry heard her gratefully as he started eagerly toward his former professor. When he thought he would be in hearing range, he called, "Professor? Professor Lupin?"

The too-thin figure stopped abruptly, as Professor Lupin caught sight of him, and smiled. Harry grinned in relief and hurried over to meet him.

"I thought it was you," Harry exclaimed, switching the Firebolt he was carrying to his other hand so he could offer his right one to the professor, who clasped it warmly in both of his. "I'm awfully glad to see you," he blurted out before he realized what he was saying.

Fortunately, Remus didn't seem to mind, but only smiled back at Harry kindly. "I'm very glad to see you too, Harry," he replied. "I wasn't sure I'd make it in time before the match."

"Are you coming to watch?" Harry asked eagerly. "Hermione said she'll be with the Gryffindors if you want to come by."

"I'll do that," he promised. "But we'd better start walking over," he added, emphasizing the words with the deed. "You don't want to be late for the first match of the year."

"I'll make it," Harry assured him. "I change pretty quickly." By now, the stands were well on their way to filling up. Although some latecomers were still filing in, most of the spectators were settling into their seats, chatting excitedly.

Then, with a sudden pang, it hit him again as it sometimes did at the most unexpected times. Sirius was never going to see him play again, was never going to greet him with his bark-like laugh, was never going to –

Professor Lupin caught hold of Harry's shoulder very firmly, forcing Harry to stop suddenly and meet his eyes. In that brief, unguarded moment, Harry caught a glimpse of a wordless anguish that caught at his breath. "I miss him too, Harry," Remus said softly.

Harry felt tears welling in his eyes. "I – " he broke off.

"It's all right," the older man told him gently. Harry nodded, and blinked hard to clear his eyes, as his former professor released him and gave him some time to collect himself.

When Harry finally looked up, Professor Lupin appeared to be frowning at the main entrance to the school. "Do you know who that is?" he asked Harry, in a very different tone.

Harry looked back at the castle. There was a woman approaching the front steps, but she was covered in a long, dark blue hooded cloak which rendered her basically unidentifiable. "No, I don't," he admitted. Remus turned back to him.

"Are you going to be all right?" he asked, looking at Harry very directly.

"Yeah, but I'd better get going. I'm almost late now," Harry admitted, heading for the changing rooms without another word. He paused at the door, looking back to see that Professor Lupin was moving swiftly to the castle entrance rather than the viewing stands, but he forgot this as Ron pulled him inside.

"It's almost time, Harry, hurry up!" Ron demanded irritably, pulling Harry's school robe off rather roughly. The rest of the team was glaring at their tardy Seeker, with the exception of Ginny, who was busy stuffing Harry into his red and gold Quidditch robes.

"Sorry," he offered quickly, thankful that the Gryffindor team was being announced and no one had time to say any more to him.

By the time the match ended with a Gryffindor win, 240-80, the team had forgotten Harry's lateness entirely, much to his relief. He still remembered the time in his first year when no one on the team had been speaking to him, which had been very uncomfortable.

He changed quickly, hoping that Professor Lupin, like Hermione, would be waiting for them outside the changing rooms. He swiftly scanned the throng when he got out, and was pleased to see both of them standing a short distance away. Hermione was beaming at him and trying to keep her bushy brown hair from being blown in front of her face. Professor Lupin was standing smiling next to her. Harry hadn't noticed it in the excitement of seeing him at first, but now he realized that his former teacher was looking more worn than he should, despite the smile on his face. He tried to remember quickly what phase the moon was in just now, but he didn't think it was that close to full at the moment.

"Well done, Harry," Lupin congratulated him, still smiling.

"Yes, Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione echoed, her eyes shining triumphantly. "Gryffindor's taken the lead for the House Cup now," she added happily.

"There are a few other people on the team, you know," Ron pointed out irritably, as he and Ginny joined them. Ron was still a little disgruntled about allowing so many goals through, although his performance was much better than it had been last year. Ginny's lips twitched slightly as though she were trying not to smile.

Hermione shot him an annoyed look. "I _know_ that, Ron, and I'm very pleased you're finally doing better, but that doesn't mean I can't congratulate Harry!"

"_Finally doing better?_" Ron repeated, looking outraged.

"I think the important thing is that the Gryffindor _team_ worked together to achieve this victory," Professor Lupin interjected diplomatically. "Each of you must be very pleased at being able to make a contribution toward winning the House Cup this year."

Ron looked slightly mollified at this, which prompted Ginny to press her lips very firmly together, her eyes dancing as they met Harry's. Giving in to the impulse of the moment, Harry winked at her.

"How long are you here for, Professor?" Hermione asked, but Harry, who was suddenly looking out of eyes that were not his own, never heard the answer.

_He was in an ancient, flagstoned room deep underground, lit only with torches, seated on an ornate chair that might have been a throne. A woman, concealed in the enveloping robes and mask of a Death Eater, knelt before him, trembling. Cold fury washed through him as he looked at her._

_"For-, forgive me, Master," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "With Dumbledore as the Secret-Keeper, however – "_

_"Silence!" he ordered harshly. "I have no interest in your sniveling excuses for failure. No time to waste listening to you whimper and moan." That fierce, high-pitched voice seared like acid. "While you blunder along, accomplishing nothing, providing nothing but the dubious entertainment of watching you beat your breast and bemoan your own inability to accomplish your task, the Ministry is on the move. My enemies are finally stirring from their sleep," the last line ended on a purr._

_The cowering figure on the floor grasped eagerly at the Dark Lord's words._

_"Yes, Master – the Ministry – perhaps, I could – " that pitifully broken voice choked on a sob as he silenced her with a glance._

_"You're a fool," he informed her contemptuously. "The Ministry is no more than an annoyance. The Order is the real threat, just as it always has been. Which is, I recall, exactly why I gave you this task." He rose and stalked lazily toward her, circling as he spoke. "Perhaps," he suggested idly, "you believe your position is a unique one?"_

_"No, Master, I – "_

_"Perhaps," he continued as though he had not heard her desperate protest, "you think that your other – " his eyes swept over the form cringing at his feet in an assessing manner " – attributes? – " he suggested lightly, as she swallowed another sob " – are such that I will countenance your repeated failures?"_

_"Never!" she protested vehemently. "I would never – "_

_"You surprise me." That voice had a dangerous edge to it now. Harry could feel the welling of power and knew what was coming. "It seems you need another lesson. Perhaps – "_

A resounding smack echoed in the air, and Harry suddenly came back to himself. He was still standing in the yard outside the changing rooms, his head ringing, and Professor Lupin was gripping him hard, almost shaking him.

"_Harry?_ _Harry?_" Lupin demanded urgently, his face white.

"What?" Harry asked stupidly. One side of his face stung.

"Harry, what happened? Are you all right?"

"I, uh," Harry looked around at the rest of his friends, standing behind Professor Lupin with varying expressions of concern. "I think I'm okay," he said, rather blankly, "but I think I should go see Dumbledore now," he added.


	2. House Guest

Without another word, Lupin caught Harry firmly by the arm and marched him forcefully toward the castle, leaving Ron, Hermione, and Ginny standing openmouthed behind them. They swept through the Entrance Hall so quickly Harry barely had time to realize he had been there, and then they were whipping through the hallways, down passages, and up staircases, moving so quickly Harry wondered if he should have just mounted his broom and flown. They didn't stop until they were standing in front of the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Gobstoppers," Lupin enunciated clearly, and then he was propelling Harry forward onto the moving staircase. While it was rising, Harry finally had a moment to catch his breath and order his thoughts.

As they neared the top of the stairs, Harry realized that the Headmaster already had someone in his office.

"I said _no_!" a woman's voice stated firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But, really, my dear – " the Headmaster began, his tones soothing.

"I won't do it," she said flatly. "It's much too dangerous."

Harry wondered who was speaking to Dumbledore in that manner. Her voice, a well-modulated contralto, told him nothing other than that she was an American.

"Under the circumstances, however, I do think that Remus would be the best choice," the Headmaster continued gently. The former professor had halted just outside the door as he heard his name, and Harry shot him a quick, inquiring look, but Remus was looking fixedly ahead, his expression blank.

Once again, the unknown woman cut the Headmaster off without compunction. "It's totally out of the question. I will _not_ stay with him."

"My dear, I really do think it is the safest way to proceed."

"Why not put me up here?" she protested. "Or with Severus?"

"Severus and the school are already being watched very closely. Your presence, I'm afraid, could not go unnoticed for long, and explanations – at this time – " the Headmaster trailed off. "Really, my dear, I do think that it would be for the best. Remember, too, that he has already seen you."

"Why," she inquired coolly, "are you assuming that _he_ is not being watched just as closely as Severus or the school?"

Harry could almost hear a faint smile in Dumbledore's voice as he replied. "I don't believe he is considered to be that much of a threat."

There was a pause before the unknown woman spoke again. "They underestimate him," she stated, an undercurrent in her tone that Harry could not decipher.

"That they do," the Headmaster agreed calmly.

Professor Lupin raised the hand that was not still gripping Harry's arm and rapped sharply on the door. An instant later, Harry thought he heard the soft rustle of fabric before the Headmaster called, "Come in."

Lupin pushed the door open and pulled Harry into Dumbledore's office. "Hello, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him calmly. The office looked as it usually did, with the exception of a woman standing with her back to them, looking out the window. She was cloaked, hooded, and even gloved in dark blue, leaving Harry with little he could discern from her appearance.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry responded cautiously, his eyes flickering back to the unknown woman. "There was something I wanted to tell you, but perhaps this isn't a good time?" he suggested slowly.

"No, Harry, this is fine," the Headmaster told him, seating himself and motioning them to do the same. "I take it you've had another vision?" he sighed. "Please tell me everything you can remember."

It was a little strange, sitting there and describing to Dumbledore and Lupin what he'd experienced with that unknown woman simply standing there, staring out the window while obviously listening to everything he said. Fortunately it didn't take long.

"And, then, I just came back. I'm not really sure how," Harry finished, shooting a quick glance at Professor Lupin.

"I slapped you," his former teacher told him calmly. "Rather hard, I'm afraid."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked at Harry rather keenly over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Harry, I realize that I'm repeating myself, but you really _must _work harder at your Occlumency lessons."

Harry felt a familiar surge of annoyance. "Has it occurred to anyone but me that this may be a way of gathering useful information?" he demanded rather aggressively.

"Yes, actually it has," Dumbledore told him imperturbably. "However, we would only really be able to make such use of it had you _mastered_ Occlumency, which you have yet to do." Harry flushed. The Headmaster continued levelly, "It requires a degree of control you have not demonstrated so far."

Harry lowered his eyes rebelliously, irrationally angry about the whole _stupid_ situation. His mind churned, and his thoughts flashed painfully back to his lessons – his confrontation with Snape last year – the Floo discussion with Sirius and Remus – he looked over toward the window to escape his thoughts and found the view blocked by that woman. His mind turned back to the time when the Potions Master was trying to teach him how to protect himself, and Harry had inadvertently invaded Snape's memories. Then, acting on impulse, Harry hurled his mind at the now-silent woman, just _standing_ there as if nothing had happened, when she'd just been so unkind to Remus –

– and felt himself shatter.

Harry couldn't gather his thoughts enough even to comprehend it properly. It was as if he had been traveling impossibly fast and suddenly slammed into a massive, impenetrable wall, only he had been made of something as insubstantial as water, and the impact reduced everything he was into tiny particles of spray, infinitesimally small, spinning away from each other in hundreds of different directions until he was nothing –

– and Harry was huddled over, shaking, his body covered in a sheen of damp sweat, as he retched helplessly on the Headmaster's floor.

"Harry, Harry – " Lupin was repeating nonsensically, holding Harry as his vomiting subsided to dry heaves, and Harry was desperately grateful to have something to hang on to.

Then the woman spoke for the first time since Harry had entered the room.

"Do you learn anything from your attempt to invade my mind?" she inquired coolly, still with her back to them.

"_Nothing_," Harry spat back harshly, the word somehow emerging as an invective. Beside him, Remus drew away with a sudden inarticulate gasp.

Harry shot a quick, shameful look at the Headmaster, and found that Dumbledore was looking at him with a sort of resigned regret, but without surprise. Turning to Remus, he found his father's last real friend regarding him with a strange mixture of shock, horror, outrage, and pain intermingled on his weary countenance. Harry opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"I think, Harry," the Headmaster directed quietly, "that you had better visit Madame Pomfrey now. It will shortly be time for dinner. Remus, I still need to speak with you. You may show Harry to the door if you wish."

Harry, still shaking, managed to force himself to his feet and stumble out of the office. Remus did not offer to help him. The ride down the stairs was horrible. Harry knew he needed to say something, but he couldn't think of the right thing to say. Then they were down the stairs and at the entrance and he was almost out of time.

He stopped suddenly, turning to Professor Lupin, and started to open his mouth, still unsure what he was supposed to say.

"Please don't, Harry," Lupin said gravely before Harry found out what would have emerged if he had managed to speak. Harry stood there, feeling awkward, and Lupin sighed.

"It matters, Harry," he told him quietly. "The kind of person you turn into? It matters."

"But, I didn't – " Lupin was still looking at him with the same sad expression, and Harry wanted to sink through the floor. He tried desperately to explain. "I wasn't trying to turn into a person, I just, just, acted on impulse. I didn't _mean_ to – " he trailed off awkwardly.

"If you are not your own master, Harry, who is?" Lupin's tone was grim. He ushered Harry out into the hallway without waiting for an answer.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Harry barely remembered his visit to Madam Pomfrey. He swallowed whatever she gave him without comment and was finally allowed to return to the Gryffindor common room, which was empty except for Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were obviously waiting for him.

"Where – " he began.

"Supper," Hermione replied, correctly interpreting his expression. "We still have enough time for you to tell us what happened."

"Tell you what happened," he repeated flatly. Well, he had lost his temper and attacked a total stranger. She had been apparently unaffected, but he had managed to seriously damage two of the most important relationships in his life. What was worse, he deserved it.

None of this was information he felt like sharing.

"After the Quidditch match?" Ginny prompted.

"Oh. Right." Harry realized that Ginny was looking at him a little too shrewdly – for an unnerving moment she reminded him of Hermione looking at Ron – and quickly explained what he had seen earlier in his vision.

"And then Professor Lupin slapped me, I guess, and brought me back."

"Is that what we're supposed to do? Slap you, I mean?" Ron asked, and Harry grimaced.

"Well, it worked," he admitted ruefully.

"You know, Harry," Hermione began.

"I know, I know, Occlumency," he responded wearily. "If I promise to try harder, can we skip the lecture and go down to dinner?"

Hermione's expression was a mixture of exasperation and empathy. "We'd better get downstairs while there's still food left anyway," she said. "Unless, of course, everyone is really anxious to visit the kitchens instead," she suggested slyly.

Harry was surprised to find himself almost smiling as Ron and Ginny laughed at Hermione's light-hearted reference to the Society for the Preservation of Elvish Welfare (S.P.E.W. for short) and went down to dinner in what he shamefully confessed to himself was a better mood than he deserved.

He darted a look at the High Table when he came in, seeing that the Headmaster was just seating himself. Harry looked down at his plate, unable to meet Professor Dumbledore's eyes just now.

"Did you see Malfoy's expression after the match?" Ron gloated. "He looked absolutely furious! I bet Snape's in about the same mood."

"He isn't here," Hermione pointed out. Harry was surprised enough to glance briefly again at the High Table. As usual, Hermione was right; the Potions Master was conspicuous in his absence.

"Where is he?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, helping himself to another jacket potato.

"He left a couple minutes into the game," Hermione told them.

"He left the Quidditch match?" Harry asked.

"Yes, just after it started," she confirmed.

"Why would he do that?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Maybe he couldn't stand to watch Gryffindor win," Ron suggested.

"Maybe he had something else he needed to take care of," Hermione theorized. She didn't mention the Order in the crowded hall.

"If you're lucky, he won't be back in time to teach your Potions class," Ron told them encouragingly. Ron had been able to drop Potions from his schedule, but the others had not. Ginny was still taking Potions because it was required through fifth year, and Hermione was taking Advanced Potions because – well, because she was Hermione. Harry had to take Advanced Potions – and do well in it – if he wanted to be an Auror, presuming that Voldemort didn't kill him first, of course.

Harry looked back at Ron with an expression of resignation. "Somehow," he told his best friend, "I don't think I'm going to be that lucky."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus returned to Dumbledore's office in a very disturbed frame of mind, which was not improved upon opening the door and seeing the Headmaster helping the woman in blue over to a sofa.

"Should I send for Poppy?" he was asking her when Remus came in.

"No, of course not," she responded swiftly, pushing the hood of her cloak away from her face impatiently. Remus managed to control the impulse to suddenly gasp for air. For some reason, he felt as though all of it had just been sucked out of the room.

He had seen her before, of course. Earlier that afternoon, he had caught up with her on the steps into the Entrance Hall of the castle, worried about the sudden appearance of an unidentifiable stranger at Harry's school. When he asked if he could help her however, she merely replied that she was here to see the Headmaster. She had accepted his escort to the office without argument, where she had given the gargoyle her password ("Malted milk balls") and disappeared up the stairs without his ever catching sight of her face.

Now that he could see it, he wasn't quite sure why it was affecting him this way. Light brown hair framed her face in soft waves to the nape of her neck. Her features were even, and attractive, but hardly extraordinary. The part of his brain that was still functioning when she glanced over at him – she seemed to be aware of his return to the office before the Headmaster was – noted that her eyes, which surveyed him very clearly, were a blend of blue and gray, and that she was much too pale. It didn't occur to him to wonder how he knew this.

She immediately looked back at Dumbledore, who caught sight of him and straightened up. "Ah, Remus, thank you for returning so promptly. I'd like to introduce you to Miss Celarevos. I believe you met briefly earlier?" Remus found himself walking towards the sofa on which she was seated as the Headmaster continued. "Cassandra, I'd like to present Remus Lupin. He used to hold our Defense Against the Dark Arts post, and I was very sorry to lose him."

Remus could see her starting to rise to greet him and quickly forestalled her. "Please don't get up," he protested quickly. She smiled warmly instead as she took his hand, and his insides twisted strangely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she told him in a clear voice. Remus acknowledged this with a smile, not quite trusting himself to speak.

"Cassie, my dear, are you _quite_ sure – " Dumbledore began.

"_Quite_," she replied immediately, an impatient edge to her voice. As the Headmaster continued to regard her with concern, she seemed to relent a little, and added in a slightly softer tone, "If it will make you feel better, I'll take something from the potions cupboard along with me when I leave," her eyes flashed warningly at this point and she added, "but that's my last and best offer."

Dumbledore chuckled slightly, "All right, I guess I've pushed enough for one afternoon, all things considered."

Hearing her sparring again with Dumbledore, Remus was unpleasantly reminded of the earlier conversation he had not been intended to overhear. The memory made him feel slightly sick, and he arranged his face into a more neutral mask.

"Remus, Cassie is here on business for the Order. I wonder if I could impose on you to put her up at your place?" As pleasantly as Dumbledore made his request, there was an undertone of command in his voice, and Remus nodded and murmurred "Of course," in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone before the Headmaster continued.

"It is critically important that no one sees her or even knows that she is here, other than you and I, of course, and possibly Severus." Dumbledore seemed to know what Remus was about to say and answered the question he hadn't had time to ask. "I don't think that Harry knows enough to present a problem – one of the reasons I didn't introduce him – but I'd like to hear about it if his curiosity finds an object in Miss Celarevos. Her work for the Order is highly sensitive, and we cannot risk having attention drawn to her presence by Harry asking questions about her."

Remus nodded again, and the Headmaster paused for a moment before shooting him a very penetrating look over the tops of his spectacles. "I assumed that there were other reasons for leaving his memory intact about the encounter this afternoon," Dumbledore said carefully, "but if that's not the case, we may need to discuss whether he needs to retain that particular memory."

Remus was startled, as Dumbledore rather disliked Memory Charms. Remus restrained his natural impulse to turn and stare at the woman who had inspired this extraordinary proposal, as though hoping to find an explanation written across her forehead.

"I'd rather he remembered this afternoon," Remus replied calmly. "I don't know what, if anything, will result from it, but I'd like to give him a chance." The Headmaster nodded.

"There is one more matter I wanted to mention. The Order will no longer be meeting at Grimmauld Place," he said gently. "I'm afraid that if you have anything there, I will have to ask you to retrieve it within a week, as you will no longer be able to go there after that time." Remus heard him with a twinge of pain, but concealed his feelings. This day was already testing his self-control, but he merely nodded in response.

The Headmaster apparently accepted this, for he rose from his desk. "I'll have one of the house-elves bring you some supper here, if you don't mind, along with your potions, Cassie. You can set out after dark." Dumbledore paused briefly to clasp Remus on the shoulder, telling him "Thank you" with a surprisingly serious look in his light blue eyes. The Headmaster then nodded at Cassie too, and, watching their eyes meet momentarily, Remus was convinced that some wordless understanding had been exchanged between them before the Headmaster abruptly turned and disappeared down the stairs.

Remus finally felt free to take another look at the woman who was now, so unexpectedly, his new house mate. She was still much too pale, and he now became aware of the subtle tension in the way she was holding herself that told him that she was in pain more clearly than if she had cried out in agony.

"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" he asked quietly.

"I don't think so," she answered, one gloved hand moving instinctively to her temple before she realized what she was doing and pulled it back to rest in her lap.

Remus hesitated, "Am I allowed to ask what caused this?"

She started slightly in surprise. "I would have thought that was obvious," she responded dryly. "Mr. Potter more than makes up in strength for whatever he lacks in control."

"_Harry_ did this to you?" he asked, and then flushed. "I mean, obviously I knew he tried to – " he broke off abruptly, but she seemed to understand.

"He mustn't know," she told him firmly, then continued again before he could open his mouth, "he's already been made aware of, well, call it the ethical aspects of what happened, but he does _not _need to know just how close he came to succeeding."

"He could have – " Remus broke off, honestly appalled.

"He won't try it again, at least not with me," she assured him calmly.

Remus struggled against his feelings of disloyalty to Harry for a moment, before forcing himself to tell her, "I don't know that we can be sure of that."

The simple sentence seemed to reflect a monumental failure on his part. He had a lowering feeling that James or Sirius would have handled the whole situation better, would have been able to guide Harry in a way that Remus, evidently, had not. If only Sirius – Remus reminded himself sharply that he shouldn't think about that now.

Cassie moved as though she had been about to cover his tightly clenched hands with her own but thought better of it. "I'm _sure_," she insisted.

"How can you be?" Remus asked, unaware of the way his voice broke.

"I'm sure he won't try it again simply because he was hurt and humiliated, and he has no idea how close he was to succeeding." There was a short pause, and then her eyes twinkled at him, inviting him to share her amusement as she added, "I have a _great_ deal of confidence in the desire of a teenager to avoid embarrassment."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Cassie flew well, but Remus could practically see her energy draining away as they proceeded. He tried to smile his encouragement to her and received a slightly strained smile in reply. At last he could see the outline of his house, and a sense of relief swept over him at being able to signal that it was time to land. Cassie dismounted beside him after landing neatly only a few feet away.

"How are you holding up?" he asked her quietly, fishing for his key in the pocket of his robes.

There was an almost imperceptible hesitation before she responded casually, "I'm a little tired, of course, but some sleep will take care of that."

"Then, if you don't mind, we'll save the grand tour for tomorrow," he told her as he unlocked the front door. Unusually for him, he took her broom out of her hand, which she did not protest, and set it next to his in the front hall.

"What potions did the Headmaster give you?" he inquired as he ushered her up the stairs.

"I haven't looked," she admitted. They had arrived in the upstairs hallway and he opened the door to his bedroom, scanning it quickly to make sure that he hadn't left any personal items out.

"If this will do for tonight, we can see to everything else in the morning," he offered.

"It will be fine, thank you." He wondered with a touch of humor whether she had really registered anything other than the fact that the room contained a bed. "Thank you very much for agreeing to put me up, especially on such short notice," she continued with automatic courtesy. "It was very kind of you."

"You're quite welcome, and I hope you'll be comfortable here," he replied equally mechanically. Considering the state the house was in, it didn't seem likely, he reflected ruefully. She had pulled her hood down again now that they were safely indoors, and her extreme pallor rendered her momentarily ghost-like.

"Would you like me to take a look at them for you?" he asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The potions," he explained, just as he realized how incredibly presumptuous he had been. She was on some sort of top-level mission for the Order, and he had just offered to handle her potions! What could he have been thinking? He considered what Moody's reaction to such a request would have been and groaned inwardly.

He opened his mouth to apologize and realized that she had evidently responded affirmatively while he was mentally berating himself for asking her, for she was handing him a collection of half a dozen small potions bottles and sitting down on his bed to remove her shoes. Closing his mouth again sharply, he looked down at the bottles and started turning them to find the labels.

It turned out that Dumbledore had sent her two doses each of a painkiller, a stimulant – she was probably supposed to have taken that _before_ they started flying – and the Potion for Dreamless Sleep.

"One of the painkillers and a Potion for Dreamless Sleep?" he suggested, setting the others down on his bureau. She simply nodded in response, and put out her hand for the first bottle. She grimaced slightly upon drinking the painkiller, then returned the bottle to him and accepted the Potion for Dreamless Sleep, which she downed very swiftly as well.

He was never quite sure whether or not her head was actually resting on his pillow before she lost consciousness, and Remus was left standing in his bedroom holding two empty potions bottles and wondering what he was supposed to do now.


	3. Disappearances

What Remus actually did was spend a short and restless night dozing intermittently on the sofa and developing new appreciation for the worn mattress on his bed. When the morning sun had at least arguably made an appearance, he gave up and wandered into the kitchen wondering what he had available for breakfast. He usually contented himself with some cereal, but that didn't seem like much to offer a guest.

"You're up early today, lad," Uncle Bertie observed.

"Sofa," he explained wearily. "Any ideas for breakfast? Dumbledore sent me a house guest."

"He _what_?"

"Sent me a house guest," he repeated, surveying the pantry gloomily and noting that, as he had feared, he was out of eggs. It looked like it would have to be cereal until he could get out to the shops. "I haven't done any of the other bedrooms, so I had to put her in mine."

His uncle frowned. "You don't need to let him take advantage of you, boy, it's not like you're working for him."

"I know," he agreed, wishing he were still teaching at Hogwarts. "But Dumbledore is not the easiest person in the world to say 'no' to," he added wryly. "Miss Celarevos seems to have found it just as difficult as I did."

It took a moment for the significance of this statement to register. When it did, Uncle Bertie sat up sharply, "She had the gall to – " he broke off, outraged. "Nice manners, I must say!"

"There's nothing wrong with her manners," Remus admitted fairly. "I, well," he hesitated, "you know what they say about eavesdroppers," he confessed guiltily. "Please don't say anything to let her know I was – well – "

"Not to worry, lad," his uncle assured him gruffly. "I may not always have been a credit to the family when I was alive, but I won't let you down."

"Thanks," Remus sighed. "I think I'll be letting the family down quite enough without any help. I'm certainly not going to make Lupin hospitality famous with ancient mattresses, rotten plumbing, and only cereal for breakfast."

Even Uncle Bertie couldn't think of too much to say to this. Finally, he told his nephew rather gruffly, "No sense worrying about things you can't change. Your time's better spend changing what you can. Like that robe, for instance. Looks like you slept in it."

"Wonder why?"

His uncle grinned. "If you don't want to sneak into your room, you could try the laundry," he advised.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus did feel better when he had bathed and changed into clean robes, enough to set the kitchen table as festively as he could manage, retrieving the linens he never bothered with himself and using his parents' everyday china rather than his own. His mother had picked out a pretty floral pattern that was much more cheerful than his own plain stoneware.

He heard water running as he started making the coffee, which let him know that his unexpected visitor was awake. She seemed to be fairly efficient in getting ready, as it was not many minutes later that she came into the kitchen.

When she did, Remus saw instantly that she was looking very much better than she had the previous night. She was wearing fresh robes of blue-gray very close to the color of her eyes, but Remus thought that more of the improvement was due to the absence of pain and exhaustion.

"Good morning," she greeted him cheerfully.

"Good morning," he responded, smiling back at her. "Did you sleep well?" he asked. "Coffee?" he added, raising the coffee pot in inquiry.

"No coffee, and yes, thank you, I slept very well."

"I'm afraid that there's only cereal for breakfast," Remus told her apologetically.

"That sounds lovely," she answered. She caught sight of Uncle Bertie, who had smoothed his hair when he first caught sight of her and was now unconsciously straightening his robes. "Good morning."

"Miss Celarevos, this is one of my uncles, Albert Lupin."

"How do you do?" she responded politely, but with what appeared to Remus to be a genuine smile. Of course, he reminded himself, he really didn't know her very well.

"Just call me Uncle Bertie," the portrait told her gruffly. Remus could tell immediately that his uncle liked her. "Everyone does."

"I'd be pleased to, Uncle Bertie. I can't honestly say that everyone calls me Cassie, but I do hope you will," she told him disarmingly. Watching her, Remus got a queer feeling in the pit of his stomach. He told himself he was probably just hungry.

"Shall we sit down?" he interjected.

Much to his relief, Cassie ate her cereal with every appearance of satisfaction, and Remus discovered to his amazement that he was actually enjoying the meal. He found himself relaxing, and speaking more naturally with her than he normally did. Unfortunately, having let his guard down, he told her the truth when she asked him what he had planned for the day.

"Grocery shopping, and then cleaning out one of the guest rooms," he told her unthinkingly.

Cassie looked at him sharply. "You gave me your room last night," she accused with unexpected insight.

"Well, I, uh – " He thought frantically and tried again. "Just because I mentioned cleaning a guest room is no reason to assume – " he trailed off. There was something about the way she was looking at him that made it impossible to lie to her. "Well, yes," he admitted. "I'm afraid I wasn't quite as prepared for company as I should have been."

"Where did you sleep?"

"The sofa in the family parlor. It's quite comfortable," he lied manfully, because she was looking so distressed.

"I'm so sorry, Remus, I had no idea I was putting you out like that," she said contritely. "I would have been perfectly happy on the sofa."

"You were much more tired than I was," Remus pointed out.

"One more reason you should have given me the sofa," she retorted. "I would have slept just as happily on the _floor_, even without the aid of a potion." Her indignation on his behalf touched him.

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "I should be able to get another bedroom finished before tonight." He rose to clear the table. Cassie started to rise to assist him, but he waved her back to her seat. "No, no, I'll take care of it," he assured her, not noticing the subtle change in her expression.

"Thank you," she said. "And what do you have in mind for me to do today?"

"I thought you might find something interesting to read in the study," he offered as he quickly charmed the dishes clean, aware that this probably didn't sound very entertaining for a guest. "There's a fairly wide selection of reading material, and I've already finished that room so I won't have to disturb you there."

"I see," her voice was noticeably cooler now. "So your idea is that I should sit in state somewhere with a book while you're cleaning a room for me?"

Remus had a vague feeling that he had made a slight misstep, but he was busy sending the clean dishes back into the cupboard. "I'm sorry it won't be very entertaining," he apologized.

"Perhaps you could leave me a little bell?" Cassie suggested with deceptive sweetness. "I could ring it whenever I wanted to summon you, presumably bearing a pot of tea." Remus finally started to realize that she was definitely annoyed, although he wasn't quite sure why.

"Well, I, uh – "

"I don't _drink_ tea," she informed him, obviously irritated. Remus stared at her helplessly, utterly at a loss.

Uncle Bertie guffawed loudly. "Gel's not useless, boy," he pointed out, still chuckling. "Doesn't need a lot of talent to manage a little housekeeping, y'know."

"I _can_ actually manage to clean my own room," Cassie told him acerbically. Remus had the illogical thought that she looked adorably like an angry little kitten which had had its fur ruffled.

"Of course you can," he assured her blandly, sternly repressing the bubble of laughter rising within him. "I'm _so_ sorry I didn't think to provide you with a list of chores the instant you walked in the door! I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me," he finished humorously.

Cassie laughed, her earlier irritation evidently forgotten. "All right, I deserved that," she admitted, still smiling at him. "Pax?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Pax," he confirmed, smiling back at her. He hesitated, her hand still clasped in his. "Are you really sure you want to spend the day doing housework?"

"Why not?" she replied cheerfully. "Other people's housework never seems like a chore," she pointed out. "And I definitely do _not _want to be – " she stopped suddenly, her face falling. "Unless you were afraid I would be in your way?" she asked apologetically. "I didn't mean to – "

"You won't be in my way," he assured her. "I'd invite you to come to the market with me if Dumbledore hadn't told me to keep you hidden," he added truthfully.

"Well, if you point me in the right direction, I can at least get started here."

"Just pick any empty bedroom you like," he told her. "The shopping may take a while – I haven't even put together a list yet – but I'll join you as soon as I can."

Cassie smiled at Uncle Bertie and left the kitchen, leaving Remus looking after her with a bemused smile on his face. Uncle Bertie watched his nephew, plainly diverted.

"Are you planning to start on that shopping list any time soon?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, of course." Remus turned hurriedly to gather a quill and parchment. "Any suggestions," he asked.

"Not really," Bertie told him, watching Remus rather more carefully than usual. "Cassie doesn't seem to be the type to fuss about meals," he told him. "But you might want to let her help with the dishes once in a while," he suggested dryly.

"Help with the – " Remus looked startled, but then smiled. "I see your point."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus kept his grocery shopping simple and swift, sticking to basics as much as possible. Since he didn't have any idea what she might like, he had no other way to decide what to include anyway. When he got the pantry at home stocked to a more respectable level, he hurried upstairs to see how Cassie was doing. He found her in the room across from his, happily levitating the bed while she charmed the floor underneath clean.

"I'm back," he told her. He immediately felt that it was a silly thing to say, but she turned and smiled at him and that awkward feeling vanished.

"I stuck to straight cleaning since I didn't know how you felt about things like furniture finishes," she explained, gesturing to the rather battered bureau with her eyes while she used her wand to lower the bed neatly back into place.

"That's fine," he answered. "Shall we tackle the curtains next?"

Remus was surprised at how quickly the time passed. Cassie was deft and competent in her housecleaning, but it was her _manner_ that made the real difference. She was perfectly matter-of-fact about the accumulated chores, treating them as a joint project of which Remus was the team leader. She did not ask questions which would have embarrassed him, nor did she offer him pity or money, either of which would have mortified his sensitive pride. Instead, she simply proceeded with the work at hand with every appearance of satisfaction, chatting lightly with him as chores permitted.

Remus quickly realized that their conversational topics were necessarily limited. They could not discuss her work or anything related to why she was there or what she was doing for the Order. Since her background might provide some insight into these areas, that topic was off-limits as well, as were politics and areas of study. Discussion of fiction seemed fairly innocuous, and fortunately their tastes were well enough aligned to give them a reasonable range of material.

When Remus called a halt for the day, they had accomplished much more than he expected. After a simple dinner, he was wondering what he could suggest in the way of a more entertaining activity for the evening when Cassie inquired about the possibility of playing a game. It was such an obvious idea that he was almost embarrassed not to have thought of it before. They spent the rest of the evening playing Exploding Snap and chatting inconsequentially until it was time to retire for the night.

This quickly set the pattern for the days that followed. After a simple breakfast, Cassie would join Remus in any chores he had planned inside the house. If he needed to go out, she would work on something inside the house or occupy herself with a book. They usually continued, with a short break for lunch, until it was time for the evening meal, and afterwards they would retire to the study. There, they would play the games Remus dug out of storage, although one evening they read instead.

In spite of the careful parameters that had to be placed around their discussions, Remus did learn some things about Cassie. She seemed to enjoy simple games, like Exploding Snap, that allowed for conversation, serving mainly as pleasant ways to pass time. Yet in an apparent contradiction, she was surprisingly adept at sophisticated strategy games, particularly those with multiple variables, such as Tournament, which was played with a variety of pieces representing assorted monsters and other magical creatures, each of which had its own complex rules of movement and play.

Oddly, wizard chess – generally considered to be in this category – seemed to be an exception. Remus had the feeling that Cassie did not take the game seriously. She directed her pieces about the board with more interest in watching them attack each other than in making a real effort to capture his king, and he mentally filed this piece of information away to be considered later.

Her taste in literature showed a similar dichotomy. She enjoyed simple, humorous writing – as long as it did not descend into vulgarity – but she also shared his taste for more intricate, multi-layered works of fiction. In their discussions, she tended to focus on the ethical behavior of the characters and the significance of their choices and actions. He derived great pleasure from their conversations about some of his favorite stories, and tried not to think about how much he missed the chance to spend time simply exploring a piece of literature with an intellectual peer.

Cassie had been there almost a week when Severus Snape arrived unexpectedly. He rang the bell while they were doing the breakfast dishes – well, sort of doing the breakfast dishes. It had started when Remus had accidentally shut one of the cupboard doors, not realizing that Cassie was sailing another cup onto a shelf behind it. She swerved the cup away at the last minute to avoid a collision and glared at him, but her eyes were smiling.

"So sorry," he told her, waving the cupboard door open again. She cast him a deeply suspicious look, and started the cup flying sedately back toward the cupboard. Just before it reached the shelf, the cup put on a sudden spurt of speed and Remus, unable to resist, slammed the door shut again.

When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, they were still in the midst of the new game, both of them laughing as Cassie would try to sail the cup into the cupboard, with Remus teasingly holding the door open and then slamming it shut at the last possible moment.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Cassie asked him, halting the cup in mid-air.

"No. I'll go see who it is." Remus went to the front door, knowing Cassie was swiftly tidying the kitchen. When he opened it, Severus Snape was standing on the front porch, looking very sour.

"Good morning, Severus," Remus greeting him politely, concealing his surprise. "Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you," the greasy-haired Potions Master accepted rather unwillingly, stepping into the hall with the air of someone doing something quite distasteful. Remus again had cause to regret the way the Marauders had treated him, but there was nothing he could do about it now and nothing he could say without making it worse. Remus repressed a sigh and closed the door.

"I am here to see Miss Celarevos," Snape informed him once the door was safely closed. Remus had almost forgotten that Dumbledore had mentioned that he might inform Severus that Cassie was here.

"She's in the kitchen," he replied calmly. "Would you like to have a seat in the drawing room or come with me while I go to fetch her?"

"The kitchen will do." There was an unpleasant sneer in Snape's voice. Remus did not reply, but merely led the way through.

"Cassie," he called before pushing the door open. "It's me. Severus Snape is here to see you." When he entered the kitchen, Cassie was walking forward to greet the visitor. The kitchen was perfectly in order.

"How do you do? I'm Cassandra Celarevos," she said, offering her hand. Snape took it reluctantly.

"Severus Snape," he replied. "We need to speak privately," he informed her, not troubling himself to hide his impatience. Remus was relieved to see that Cassie accepted this with composure, apparently not offended.

"Remus?" she asked, turning to him.

"Use any room you like on the ground floor," he answered. "I'll be upstairs getting a start on the attic. Severus." Remus allowed the simple use of the Potions Master's first name to serve as whatever sort of farewell he would accept and headed up the stairs.

It was a good hour before Cassie joined him in the attic.

"Has Severus gone?" he asked.

"Yes," she said non-committally.

"It's all right," he assured her. "I'm not going to ask about it."

"Thanks," she replied, with a grateful smile. There was a pause, and she seemed to be thinking.

"Remus?"

"Yes?"

"I think I can say this much," she told him slowly. "I don't know how the scheduling is going to work out. If it turns out that I have to leave here on very short notice, I may not have time to say this later. I really appreciate your kindness in putting me up, and I want you to know how much I've enjoyed my stay."

"I've enjoyed having you here, and you're very welcome," he replied simply. Then they started to work on the attic.

On the afternoon of the second day after Snape's visit, he returned from a trip to the market to find that she was gone.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Harry still winced a little mentally every time he caught sight of the Headmaster. He couldn't figure out how to make amends for what he had done, or even apologize for his behavior. There wasn't anyone he could ask either, as he would have had to explain. He couldn't bring himself to tell anyone – even Ron – that he had mentally attacked a total stranger in Dumbledore's office.

Harry wished again that Sirius was still alive. He thought that perhaps he could have confessed to his godfather and asked for his help, but Sirius was dead, and his fantasies of somehow undoing what had happened were not helping him fix his present problem.

He considered writing to Remus, but he couldn't think of anything more to say. He didn't think that his former teacher was interested in discussing the incident any further; Remus' reaction at the time had spoken volumes more than the few words he had voiced later. Besides, Harry could hardly ask Remus how to fix the damage he, Harry, had done to their relationship or Remus' opinion of him. He had a feeling it would sound like a childish plea to be excused from the consequences of his own actions.

The result was, oddly enough, that he threw himself into his studies. Harry continued to train at Quidditch, but his success on the Quidditch field would hardly represent a new commitment on Harry's part, and considering how much he enjoyed it the game could hardly qualify as penance. Somehow, doing _really_ well in his classes seemed like a way he could show Remus and the Headmaster how sorry he was for his behavior, demonstrating that he had learned from his mistake. Maybe he could make them proud of him again.

So Harry became almost as determined to master their course work as Hermione. Ron studied rather more than he would have without Harry's newfound studiousness, but his duties as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team gave him something else to do instead while Harry and Hermione were studying. Even when Ron joined them in the library, he was just as likely to pour over "Quidditch Through the Ages" or outline strategies for their next match as he was to read a textbook or finish a homework assignment.

Harry was finally starting to make some progress in Occlumency, albeit rather slowly. He hadn't had any further visions since the one he had the afternoon of the last Quidditch match, but he wasn't sure he should take any comfort in that. Voldemort could simply be some distance from him or pre-occupied with other things – such as his plan to take over the wizarding world.

The Ministry's direction to the wizarding community regarding home defense had produced a mixed reaction. Some people found great consolation in stringently following the recommendations of the Ministry, as though their obedience to the new directives would magically guarantee their safety. There were some who ignored the directives, whether because they were unwilling to accept that they could be affected by Voldemort's return or because they simply refused to believe that it had actually happened.

Then there were those who made their own defensive preparations which were not necessarily consistent with those proposed by the Ministry. As a number of wizards and witches in this category used Obtrusion Charms on their houses, this caused a great disruption in the normal system of deliveries by owl post. Finally, the Ministry was forced to implement a new licensing requirement on the use of Obtrusion Charms to manage the problem.

Subscriptions to _The Daily Prophet_ rose dramatically. Harry was not one of the new subscribers; he was still annoyed with the paper's treatment of him in his fourth and fifth years and saw no reason to fund it. Besides, Hermione was still subscribing, and she could be counted on to advise him of anything he wanted or needed to know without his having to read the whole newspaper every day.

Hermione was keeping a careful watch in both _The Daily Prophet_ and the Muggle news for signs of activity by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. She was the one who saw the article one morning as they were breakfasting in the Great Hall. Harry was seated between Ron and Ginny, across from Hermione and Neville.

"Harry?" she said quietly, after looking around to make sure that no one else was within earshot.

"Yeah?"

"I think you better read this," she said, her expression warning him that the news wasn't good as she handed over the paper.

_MINISTRY WITCH DISAPPEARS, DEATH EATERS FOUND!_

_Emmeline Vance, an Obliviator at the Ministry of Magic, has disappeared from her home, where Aurors arriving on the scene found two suspected Death Eaters stunned. Georgeson Goyle and Lucius Malfoy have been taken into custody. Given the current unavailability of Azkaban, they are being held at an undisclosed location under heavy security pending determination of their respective cases._

_According to a Ministry spokeswitch, Emmeline Vance was a valued, long-time employee of the Ministry, serving in a number of other functions before her most recent assignment as an Obliviator. Although the spokeswitch refused to comment on reports that the scene showed obvious signs of a violent struggle between the victim and her attackers, she did have this to say: "The fact that Miss Vance, who lived alone, was able to ensure the capture of two known supporters of You-Know-Who while presumably under attack herself is an extraordinary testament to her skill and courage. She will be sorely missed." _

_There seems to be little hope that Miss Vance will be found alive, despite the Ministry's insistence that a comprehensive search and a full investigation are both underway._

Harry looked up. "She was – uh, well, we traveled together once." He hoped the oblique reference to her service as one of his escorts to Grimmauld Place wasn't _too_ oblique.

Hermione nodded her comprehension, and Harry passed the article to Ron, who scanned it quickly.

"They've got Lucius Malfoy!" he exclaimed excitedly. Harry looked over to the Slytherin table.

"I don't see Draco," he said. "Do you think he knows?"

Ron shrugged and threw the paper down on the table. "Somebody'll tell him if he doesn't. I'm just glad his father's somewhere where he can't do any more damage."

"Until they break him out again," Harry added pessimistically.


	4. Mission & Reunion

As far as the timing of the full moon, it had really been a lousy year. There had been a full moon the night before Harry's sixteenth birthday, and now Remus was facing the prospect of spending Christmas Eve as a werewolf. It was very little consolation that at least it was the _last_ full moon of 1996.

Remus kept trying to accept the less enjoyable aspects of his life philosophically, but there were moments when this was more of a strain than others, and this was one of them. It wasn't that Christmas was normally a big holiday for him, but he did try to make things a little more festive then, if only to keep his own spirits up. Simply ignoring the holiday seemed rather – well – childish, a rejection of the spirit of the season because others had more to celebrate than he did.

Cassie's absence left an enormous hole in his life – much larger than it should have considering how short a time he had known her. He had to repeatedly stop himself from turning to speak to her, and the realization that she wasn't there caused him a small twinge of pain every time.

Even when he managed to remain conscious of her absence, he found himself mentally storing up things to tell her when he saw her next. For some reason, Remus couldn't bring himself to consider the possibility that he might _not_ see her again. As Christmas approached, he tried not to get his hopes up too high, but it didn't seem too farfetched to think that she might send him a brief greeting in honor of the season.

Partly to distract himself, Remus made a concerted effort to devote more of his time to the Order of the Phoenix. It lifted his spirits a bit to be able to take an extra shift of guard duty for Hestia Jones, or one of the Weasleys, and they greatly appreciated the chance to spend a little more time on their holiday preparations or with their families. The string of bad luck the Order had suffered a short time previously seemed to have run its course, much to Remus' relief.

As the holiday season drew nearer, he received a visitor he did not expect. He was standing on the front porch, wand outstretched, clearing the remains of a recent snowfall from the walkway, when Albus Dumbledore suddenly appeared on the newly-cleared path. The Hogwarts Headmaster, with his silvery-gray robes, long white beard, and twinkling blue eyes, looked like a figure added to the snowscape by an artist with an excellent eye for color.

"Headmaster," Remus greeted him with genuine pleasure, "what a nice surprise!"

"Remus," Dumbledore strode forward to shake his hand. "It's delightful to see you again. I do hope you don't mind my dropping in like this?"

"Not at all. May I offer you some tea?"

"Thank you, that would be very nice." The Headmaster followed him inside through to the kitchen, exchanging a few pleasant words with Uncle Bertie as Remus prepared the tea. After the younger man poured, Dumbledore chatted inconsequentially until Remus decided to take matters into his own hands.

"So, how is Harry doing?" he inquired, misliking the way the Headmaster's eyes darkened with concern before he masked the expression.

"He seems to be making more of an effort to learn Occlumency from Severus, and has made some progress in that regard. In other respects," the Headmaster hesitated, "He seems a bit – quieter. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it. There are a number of possibilities, of course, and – " Dumbledore broke off and adjusted his half-moon glasses slightly, a gesture that seemed somewhat out of character. "Harry always has kept to himself in many ways, but I have, in the past, had rather more insight than I have at present," he concluded.

Remus frowned. "Is there anything I can do?"

"About Harry? Nothing you're not already doing, Remus. Harry is not the reason for this visit." Remus felt his chest tighten.

"Is it Cassie?" he asked bluntly. "Has anything happened to her? I haven't heard a word since she left, more than two weeks ago."

There was a pause before Dumbledore answered slowly, "I wouldn't expect to hear from her at this point." Evidently he could see the questions forming in Remus' mind, for he held up his hand against them. "Please don't ask me anything else. I cannot tell you any more than I have already done."

Remus could hear the finality in the Headmaster's tone, and tried to discipline his wayward thoughts to the matter at hand. "Very well," he answered quietly. "You didn't come about Harry and I'm not allowed to ask about Cassie. Shall I continue to guess?"

The Headmaster sighed. "I suppose I have been delaying things a bit as I find the purpose of my visit somewhat – distasteful. I have been informed that Voldemort is trying to recruit werewolves to join him." Remus set his teacup down very carefully.

"Oh?" he asked in a deliberately neutral tone.

"I believe this is merely another step in his campaign to recruit supporters. He seeks followers among those who are considered 'dark creatures,' the ones who have reason to advocate a change in government. Given the treatment werewolves have received from the Ministry of Magic, I am not surprised he thinks their ranks will provide him with allies." The Headmaster spoke very levelly, as though this were a purely academic discussion. "We need to ascertain the extent to which his efforts are succeeding."

As Remus digested this statement, he was unable to fully conceal the flare of anger that surged through him. "So you came here to see if I am still loyal?" he inquired. "To determine whether all that the Ministry has done to me is enough to push me to the other side?"

The Headmaster looked genuinely horrified, "Remus, _no_, you can't think that I – "

"Please feel free to reassure the appropriate representatives at the Ministry that I'm well aware that they're still better than _Voldemort_." Remus continued with an unusual edge to his voice. "You might point out that all the oppressive and discriminatory laws they've passed haven't actually _killed_ me yet, much less my closest friends, so Voldemort remains safely ahead of them if they feel they're in danger of winning the competition for cruelty!"

Dumbledore was obviously deeply distressed. "Remus, I did _not_ come here to see if you had joined Voldemort. I can honestly tell you that the thought did not occur to me. I rather wish it _had_ occurred to me now, as I could have handled this better and avoided upsetting you on this point without cause."

Remus, his earlier anger fading away into resignation, met Albus Dumbledore's eyes. "It would not be the first time I've been wrongly suspected of betraying the Order and joining Voldemort. I did not imagine it would never happen again," he said simply.

"_Remus_ – "

"All right," Remus said quietly, "then why are you here?"

There was a long pause. "The purpose of my visit is now even more distasteful than it was before," the Headmaster said softly, "I am of two minds as to whether I should even ask you to consider this."

"Ask. I can still make up my own mind."

Dumbledore hesitated briefly, and then sighed. "Very well. We are – I am – looking for someone to try to ascertain the extent to which Voldemort is succeeding in recruiting werewolves to his cause." Remus Lupin absorbed this in silence.

"I see. So I correctly understood the scenario; I merely misunderstood my role in it."

"I should not have asked. I apologize, Remus. I do hope you'll forgive me."

"What for? I'll do it."

"I assure you that you don't have to – "

Remus sighed. "I believe I've already pointed out that Voldemort is a bigger problem than the Ministry. And, if I do this, it will be another signal to the Ministry that werewolves _can_ be useful members of society, and that's something we need rather desperately in the current climate of fear created by the acknowledgment that Voldemort has returned. My status as a werewolf is already relatively well known, which translates into the benefit of sending someone with at least a chance of being trusted by other werewolves without asking someone else to risk exposure. When you consider the alternatives, it's really not a difficult choice."

Dumbledore was regarding him with sad gravity. "Remus, I want you to know that I _am_ trying to get the Ministry to change its policies with respect to werewolves."

"I know; you didn't need to say that. And I – I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," the Headmaster assured him. "Remus, before you make any decision – " he held up a hand to forestall the former teacher, " – Yes, I know, but please allow me to finish. There are some risks you need to be aware of. It appears that Voldemort is aware of the plan to – evaluate – the current situation, or else he soon will be. I have given some thought to how to better ensure your safety, and I believe that a variant of the Obtrusion Charm may be of some assistance."

Remus was startled. "I thought that was only good for protecting fixed locations."

"That is the variation. I hope it may give you enough of an advantage, when combined with your own skills, to give you a reasonable chance of success. I'm afraid that the measures used by Hagrid and Madame Maxime to block traceable communications are no longer secure."

Remus absorbed this. "All right. Am I allowed to accept the assignment yet?"

After a brief hesitation, the Headmaster pulled two rolls of parchment out of his robes and hand them to Remus.

"One of these lists werewolves who are already enrolled on the official registry. The second list is a personal one. It includes werewolves who are _not_ listed on the official registry, as well as contacts who can provide Wolfsbane Potion during your travels."

Remus scanned quickly through the lists. There were more names than he anticipated, and he felt a pang of sympathy for all those people who endured the same terrible transformation thirteen times a year.

"What may I tell Harry?" he asked.

"That you have accepted a short term assignment working for the Ministry of Magic – which will be true by the way, although you will report to me – and will unfortunately be unreachable for some time, although I may be able to arrange to forward some of Harry's letters to the contacts I've noted. You may, however, tell him in person if you like. If you are still willing to proceed – " Remus nodded and the Headmaster continued " – then I will need to cast the spell we discussed. If you would come to Hogwarts when you are ready to begin your journey, I will cast it on you there." Dumbledore rose to leave, but paused.

"Remus, are you _quite_ sure you want to do this?"

Remus responded levelly. "Yes."

The Headmaster studied him with concern, but he spoke again only briefly before he took his leave. "In that case, please be careful."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

It was late enough into spring to herald the arrival of summer when Remus finally returned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore spent several hours hearing his final report, supplementing Remus' own coded notes on the two scrolls with his own shorthand. They worked through lunch munching on sandwiches as they proceeded through the lists. Finally, late in the afternoon, they finished, although Remus' voice was rough from talking.

"Excellent work," the Headmaster told him, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. "I didn't think you would finish until about the end of the school year."

Remus smiled tiredly, "I wanted to get this _done_," he said simply. Dumbledore eyed him with some concern.

"I do hope you haven't worn yourself out. There is no reason to risk your health over this." The Headmaster smiled slightly at him, although he still looked concerned. "It is quite selfish of me, I know, but I really do want you around for many other things far into the future," Dumbledore told Remus gently.

"I'll be fine," Remus assured him automatically. "Although I wouldn't mind being free of the Obtrusion Charm again, just in case I have any post, and getting a chance to see Harry."

"Thank you for reminding me." Dumbledore withdrew a small stack of letters from his desk and passed them to Remus. "You can look them over while I take care of this charm."

Remus glanced through his post absently. Dumbledore had forwarded some letters from Harry to him in care of the contacts for Wolfsbane Potion, but he still had what looked like holiday greetings from Arthur and Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the young man he had met at St. Mungo's sharing a room with Arthur, as well as some from other members of the Order. He set them aside to enjoy later and continued sorting.

Somewhat to his surprise, he had three letters addressed to him from an unknown sender, apparently the same one if he could judge by the handwriting. He opened the first and skimmed quickly through it as Dumbledore finished removing the charm and returned to sit behind the desk. It was only a short note, but a line at the end of it was very painful to read, "_I haven't heard from Padfoot for a while – not that he's a terribly regular correspondent – but I'd appreciate it if you would mention me if you happen to see him_."

Remus stared at the signature, 'Catherine Clare' penned gracefully in deep blue ink. He didn't know anyone named Catherine Clare. He hadn't known that Sirius had known anyone be that name either, but she obviously knew him well enough to use his Marauder name, which was _not_ something lightly shared – unless this was some sort of trap set by Voldemort with information provided by Wormtail.

Remus quickly read through the other two notes, but they said very little. One asked him to contact her at an American address if for any reason he was unable to reach their "mutual friend." The other again asked him to contact her and provided information about her plans to travel to London. She never openly referred to Padfoot again.

"Headmaster, have you ever heard of Catherine Clare?" he asked, still wondering what to make of these notes.

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore told him calmly. Remus looked up.

"Who is she?"

"Among other things, she is the newest member of the Order of the Phoenix," the Headmaster told him, glancing at the letters Remus was still holding. "She came to see me when she was unable to reach you." He hesitated, then added, "I have informed her that Sirius is dead."

Remus concentrated on refolding the parchment and arranging the letters neatly on his lap. "Sirius never mentioned her," he said.

"She is looking forward to meeting you. The next meeting of the Order is on Saturday morning at Stone House. If you feel up to attending, you may meet her then."

"Of course I'm up to attending – although I will need directions," Remus told him. Dumbledore scribbled swiftly on a small scrap of parchment, handed it to Remus, and rose to his feet, prompting Remus to stand as well.

"I believe Harry and his friends are in the library if you wish to stop by." The Headmaster's eyes twinkled as he added, "Miss Granger has been helping him revise."

Remus smiled in understanding, but hesitated.

"Are you certain that – "

"I am certain that Miss Clare is not working for Voldemort, and I am confident that her desire to be of service to the Order is genuine," Dumbledore said. "But, of course, you shall form your own opinion when you meet her on Saturday." The finality of his tone was unmistakable, and Remus excused himself without further delay.

Remus put the matter out of his mind as he sought Harry in the library. He found him sharing a table with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in a quiet corner. Harry and Ginny were reading, while Hermione was explaining something in a low voice to Ron. Hermione was the first to see him, but she kindly went on with her explanation with only the briefest of pauses, not drawing attention to his presence, and he smiled gratefully at her. Because of this, Remus was able to slip quietly into place behind Harry.

James' son was absorbed in comparing his notes to the sixth year texts. Running a hand through his untidy hair, he muttered under his breath, "Why did I write 'locator spell' here? I was _sure_ you used a Patronus against a Lethifold."

"You do," Remus assured him. Harry started in surprise, his face lighting up as he turned and realized who was behind him.

"_Professor Lupin_!" he exclaimed loudly, standing up quickly and grasping his former teacher's hand. "You're back!"

Remus noted with a sort of wistful surprise that Harry was now at least as tall as he was himself, although not yet quite as tall as James had been when fully grown. The boy – young man, he corrected mentally – must have had another growth spurt while he was away.

"Yes, I'm finished now, and I thought I'd stop by while I had a chance – if I'm not disrupting your preparations for finals," he added, surveying the pile of books on the table.

"Of course not," Harry assured him quickly. "Hermione has us well in hand." Remus watched as Hermione made a face at Harry, who merely smiled at her. "How long can you stay?"

"I have a little time now," Remus told him, observing Irma Pince approach, frowning at the disturbance of the peace in her sanctum, "but we probably shouldn't be making noise in the library. Do you have time to step out for a few minutes?"

"Sure," Harry agreed instantly, glancing at Ron.

"We'll bring your stuff back for you," the redhead promised. "It was nice to see you again, Professor," he added, Hermione and Ginny nodding their agreement.

As he and Harry walked out of the library, Remus wondered why so many people persisted in addressing him as 'Professor' when nearly three years had passed since he actually taught at Hogwarts.

"So, Harry, how have you been?" They had walked out the main entrance and were heading toward the lake. Remus noted that Harry shot him a somewhat anxious look before he responded.

"Better. I think." Harry rushed on before Remus could reply. "I've been working very hard on my studies this year – Hermione's been helping me – and I'm getting my marks up. Even Potions," he added, grimacing slightly. "And I – I think I'm making progress in the Occlumency. I'm still taking lessons, but I haven't had any more visions since – since that one before. I'm doing the exercises Snape gave me every night."

"That's good to hear, Harry," Lupin told him. His mind was busy processing what Harry had told him; Remus had a feeling he was missing something. Harry darted another look at him, then looked down at the ground instead, kicking a small rock along absently as they walked.

"I haven't – " Harry broke off and started again. "Gryffindor's in the lead for the House Cup," he told his father's friend. "We're also in the lead for the Quidditch Cup going into the last match."

"Your house mates must be very pleased." Harry shrugged, which seemed a somewhat strange reaction. "How do you feel about it?" Lupin probed cautiously.

"Well, it – " Harry seemed to be concentrating on the rock he was still scuffing along, "it isn't very much."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Harry," Remus told him slowly. He saw Harry cast another quick look in his direction, this one slightly surprised.

"To make up for what I did," he said, with the air of someone stating the obvious. Remus abruptly stopped walking.

"You've been doing all this to try to make up for – "

"For attacking her," Harry confirmed shamefacedly. Then he added, "The woman in the Headmaster's office," as though he needed to distinguish her from all the other women he had attacked.

Remus was momentarily speechless, and his lack of response seemed to add to Harry's unease.

"I know it doesn't really, but I couldn't do anything for _her_ – even apologize properly – since I don't know who she is – I didn't think I was even supposed to know she was here."

"_Harry_ – " Harry didn't seem to be listening to him and rushed on.

"But I did want you to know I was sorry. And to show you that I – well, I'm trying to change. To make you proud of me again. And I – " Remus reached out and caught hold of Harry's shoulder, gripping it hard for moment.

"Harry, listen to me. I _am_ proud of you," Lupin assured him, and Harry finally met his eyes, albeit somewhat uncertainly. "I would still be proud of you even if you hadn't studied quite as much. So would James and Sirius." Remus released Harry and smiled slightly, remembering the Marauders' school days. "Although I suspect they would have told you to relax about your marks and make sure you have _some_ fun while you're here." He saw the beginning of an answering smile, but Harry's eyes were still troubled.

"I know I disappointed you," Harry told him hesitantly. Remus struggled with what to say.

"Yes, Harry, you did," he admitted honestly, "but that doesn't mean I stopped _caring_ about you. You're allowed to make some mistakes, you know. I'm not perfect myself, and neither were James or Sirius. Both of them did things they regretted, just as I have, and just as you have." Lupin waited patiently as Harry absorbed this.

"I guess that makes sense," he said, and Remus knew instinctively that Harry was thinking about what he'd seen in Severus' Pensieve.

"Harry, we all have moments when we behave in a way that doesn't reflect all of who we are – a partial truth instead of the whole truth. I haven't forgotten everything else about you – your continuing loyalty to your friends, your determination to produce a Patronus in your third year, your courage in facing not only Voldemort, but everyone else in the world who doubted that he had returned – just because of that moment."

Harry drew a deep breath, and then let it out slowly.

"Does that mean you still care about Wormtail?" he asked, catching Remus off guard.

Remus ran a hand through his hair and sighed, wondering how the conversation got so complicated so quickly.

"Yes, Harry, I do," he confessed. "Peter was my friend for a long time, and I haven't forgotten that. That doesn't mean I would excuse him from the consequences of what he's done, or that I don't view the situations a little differently. Your mistake was a momentary lapse of judgment in a – " Lupin looked at Harry apologetically, " – a childish fit of pique. You realized it and regretted it almost immediately, and I don't think you've repeated it since." Harry shook his head vigorously in denial. "Peter chose, as an adult, to enter the service of Voldemort. He had betrayed the Order repeatedly before he ever betrayed your parents. What Peter has done is more deliberate than a momentary lapse in judgment and much more serious – but I do still care about him."

Remus was now watching Harry, although he was experienced enough to do a much better job than Harry had of concealing his anxiety as he waited for a reaction to his words.

"I think I understand," Harry said finally, and Remus smiled slightly in relief.

"Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" he asked, wondering silently whether he'd be ready for Harry's next question.

"Not really." Harry let out a deep breath, and some of the tension seemed to leave him. Then he smiled, and Remus thought it was a more genuine smile than Harry had worn since they left the library. "I could tell you about Ron and Hermione's latest squabbles, but I doubt you've got that much time."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

If Sirius or James had been alive to ask Remus how he spent the remainder of the week, he would probably have said he spent it indulging himself. He took some time off from working on the house, sensible enough to allow himself a short break after his long and arduous assignment which had required so many months on the road. He tried to get caught up on his sleep, going to bed early and sleeping until he woke up in the morning.

He spent a delightful morning browsing through the bookstore in Hogsmeade, treating himself to an armload of new reading material and refusing to feel guilty about it. Money had not been among his reasons for deciding to take the assignment, but it turned out that "short-term assignments" for the Ministry paid fairly decently. He suspected that this was largely due to Dumbledore's influence - he doubted Cornelius Fudge had recovered enough from the shock of discovering his mistakes a year ago to argue with the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts about a minor matter - but it was welcome nonetheless.

He did feel a bit guilty about another purchase he made later, so much so that he found himself wondering whether he should try and sneak it past Uncle Bertie, which was really ridiculous. He had been walking down the street, savoring the prospect of spending a few days enjoying his new books and wondering what to get Harry for his birthday in the summer when a flash of color caught his eye. It wasn't a bright color, but the soft blue-gray fabric displayed in the window happened to be very close to the color of Cassie's eyes and drew his attention immediately.

On impulse, he had stepped into the shop. When he left, he was wearing a new set of robes and had ordered two more.

He found himself trying to rationalize this all the way home. He hadn't had any new robes in literally years, and this last assignment had really finished off the ones he'd been wearing. It shouldn't be really wrong to use just a _bit_ of the money he earned replacing them. He hadn't chosen anything extravagant - just plain, hard-wearing fabric in neutral colors, styled quite simply.

Nevertheless, he was plagued by the feeling that he had been unconscionably reckless in wasting money on anything as insignificant as his appearance when there were so many other more pressing claims on his limited funds. He could spend a little bit on books without guilt, but frittering it away on _clothing_ was positively profligate to his mind.

He actually squared his shoulders before walking into the kitchen to face his uncle.

"You're back!" Uncle Bertie beamed at him. "Find that book by that Fortiff fellow you were wanting?"

"Yes, and the new Magus treatise has just been published as well." Remus deposited the pile of books on the kitchen table. "Also, I sort of - um - "

"You bought new robes!" Uncle Bertie exclaimed.

"Yes," Remus admitted.

"Well, turn around and let me see 'em," his uncle ordered. Feeling rather silly, Remus rotated obediently in place.

"I like 'em," Uncle Bertie announced. "Not too fussy, like in my day. Always having to adjust things."

"You don't think it was a waste of money? With the roof and - "

"Nonsense," was the booming reply. "Covering you is a lot more important than covering this old barracks! Even if the price of a set of robes was going to make any difference to the roof, which it won't."

"I got three altogether," Remus confessed. "The other two needed to be hemmed. They're coming by owl post." Much to his relief, Uncle Bertie laughed.

"Good for you, it's about time," the portrait told him. Remus relaxed slightly, and Uncle Bertie shot him a very shrewd look. "You've been fretting yourself to flinders all the way home, haven't you?"

"Well, I was a little worried about whether this was a sensible purchase just now."

"By Merlin's beard, lad, unless the other two are made of Demiguise pelts and Graphorn hide, it was a very sensible purchase indeed," Uncle Bertie assured him with gruff good humor, and Remus was sufficiently relieved to enjoy the rest of his self-declared holiday without too many pangs of guilt.

On Saturday morning, Remus set out for the site of the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, using the directions Dumbledore had given him. Stone House proved to be a very large and elegant house, saved from being called a castle only by its more modern design. There were huge expanses of glass set in perfectly maintained coffee-and-cream stone. There was no sign of the dust, gloom, or decay he always associated with Grimmauld place, nor was there any of the genteel shabbiness of his own home. As he drew closer to the front door, he saw that even the mortar between the stones sparkled like new, and the large stone cats that encircled the roof in place of the more typical gargoyles positively shone.

He was somewhat relieved when Dumbledore himself opened the door in response to his ring.

"Remus, I'm so glad you came," the Headmaster told him, ushering him inside and directing him toward the broom closet. "I do hope you're quite well?" he inquired, searching Lupin's face as Remus stored his broom on one of the conveniently placed hooks.

"Very well."

"I'm glad to hear it," Dumbledore smiled, then his smile faltered as he hesitated.

"Remus, there is something I have not shared with you which may prove to be, well, a bit of a surprise."

"Oh?"

"The problem is that I still cannot give you very much information – probably only enough to generate questions I cannot answer," he admitted. "I can only tell you two things." Dumbledore's expression was as serious as Remus had seen it.

"Firstly, 'Catherine Clare' _is_ the real name of the woman to whom you will shortly be introduced. Secondly, she has absolutely no memory of ever having met you before."

Remus was puzzled. "Why would she – " he began.

"That is all I can tell you," the Headmaster cut him off firmly. "I must ask you to refrain from any further inquiry – of me or of anyone else." Dumbledore regarded him gravely. "I would not ask this of you if it were not a matter of importance. I can only ask you to trust me on this point."

"Of course I trust you," he replied immediately, still rather confused.

"Thank you," Dumbledore responded quietly. "Shall we go in?"

Remus Lupin's preoccupation with this bizarre conversation kept him from being overawed by his surroundings as Dumbledore led him into the meeting. Most of the other members of the Order were already there. He saw Severus and Minerva conversing in one corner in rather serious tones, while Tonks and Kingsley Shaklebolt appeared to be having a more light-hearted conversation. Moody was talking to a woman that Remus did not recognize from the back. Dumbledore, his hand firmly under Remus' elbow, steered him over to them.

"Catherine, I wanted to present Remus Lupin to you before the start of the meeting," the Headmaster said. The woman, wearing coffee-colored robes, turned to greet him with a smile in her blue-gray eyes. Through the numbness of his shock, Remus could feel the Headmaster's hand tightening hard under his elbow in a combined gesture of support and warning unseen by anyone else. "Remus, this is Catherine Clare."

She extended her hand and smiled warmly at him. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"The pleasure is mine," he replied, accepting her hand automatically.

"I believe it is time for us to get started," Dumbledore interjected smoothly. "Shall we begin?" Still grasping his elbow firmly, the Headmaster unobtrusively steered Remus to a seat and deposited him safely in it before taking his own place at the head of the table.

His mind whirling, Remus concentrated on at least _appearing_ attentive to the proceedings and indifferent to the presence of the woman now seated at the same table – the woman he had known as Cassie Celarevos.


	5. Order

Having arranged his face in what he hoped was an appropriate expression, Remus allowed his mind to go to work trying to process what had just happened.  He reviewed what Dumbledore had told him – Catherine Clare was her real name, and she had no memory of having met him.  Obviously, Cassandra Celarevos had been an alias.  Dumbledore had said at the time that she was there on a highly sensitive mission for the Order, so this was certainly understandable.  

Remus glanced quickly at Cassie – _Catherine_, he corrected himself silently – before returning his gaze to Dumbledore.  

The question remained whether her memory of the time they spent together had been removed voluntarily – perhaps by Dumbledore as a security measure, which would indicate that her work was even more important than he had realized – or involuntarily, possibly accidentally but more likely in combat.  The Headmaster was not going to tell him any more than he had, so Remus regretfully acknowledged that he wasn't likely ever to know what had happened in November.

When he thought about this, Remus decided it wasn't such a terrible thing.  He had enjoyed spending time with her, despite the constraints imposed by the secretive nature of her mission, and he had missed her more than he should have in the ensuing months.  Now he had a chance to get to know her all over again, but without the same restrictions as before.  He was being given an opportunity to discover the answers to some of the questions he had previously been forbidden to voice.  She had seemed to like him well enough before, so there was every reason to hope that they could become friends again.  All he had to do was act as though they had never met.

Having resolved this much in his own mind, Remus really did turn some of his attention to the progress of the meeting.  He had not expected to do much more than observe and absorb during this, his first meeting back after a long absence, as he was no longer current on the Order's activities.  

He was pleased – and a little impressed – to note that Catherine Clare was obviously an accepted and respected member of the team.  When she spoke during their discussions, even Moody listened attentively, and Severus Snape seemed to regard her with very slightly less scorn than he accorded most other members of the wizarding community.  

This was even more of an accomplishment considering that she could not have openly started attending meetings until after the completion of her earlier mission.  As far as the other members were concerned, she had only been active a short time.  If Dumbledore was so insistent on secrecy with respect to her previous mission, he was hardly likely to have informed the rest of the team that she had been working for the Order longer than they realized.

A thought occurred to him, and he glanced at Severus.  The Potions Master had also known her in November; he had obviously been involved in her mission in some way.  Was that mission the source of his unusual lack of dislike where she was concerned, or had his memory of that time been eliminated as hers had?

Remus was jolted out of his reverie as he realized that the topic of the meeting had switched to where Harry would be spending the summer.  He needed to spend a certain amount of time with the Dursleys, but later in the summer it was possible that he could have a break from them in a secure enough location.  The threat from Voldemort had only intensified over the past year, and the latest defeat he had suffered at Harry's hands had done nothing to alleviate the danger to the young man still known as "The Boy Who Lived."

This year, the discussion centered around Stone House and Hogwarts, although there was a third camp who thought that Harry should remain with the Dursleys for the full period of the summer holiday.  

"Hogwarts has always been the best place I can think of to safeguard anything of value," Kingsley Shaklebolt was saying in his rich, deep voice.  "Harry should be fairly comfortable there, and it's certainly well-defended."

"Hogwarts defenses are normally quite good, but the school is nearly vacant during the summer months," Minerva McGonagall responded.  "Protecting Harry during the school year, with a full staff plus the students, is _quite_ a different matter from protecting him during the summer when the building is nearly deserted."

"It must also be noted that most of the wizarding community attended school there themselves," Severus Snape pointed out.  His tone of voice was not quite as menacing as that he used in the classroom, but the underlying sneer was still there.  "There are countless witches and wizards who know its location, layout – in some cases, including the secret entrances to the school – " his eyes rested meaningfully on Remus Lupin " - and its defenses.  Unless we can be assured that _all _the aforementioned witches and wizards can be trusted, I must reluctantly suggest that we consider the alternatives."

"Stone House has some good defenses as it stands at the present time," Dumbledore interjected quietly, "however these would be weakened by making the house Unplottable, which must be taken into consideration."  

"How could the defenses be weakened by making it Unplottable?" Minerva queried with a frown.  "It's a good, sound spell, and effective on any inanimate structure."

"Nevertheless, it is not suitable for use at Stone House," Dumbledore told them with an air of finality.  "It is only that particular aspect of the normal run of protection spells which is at issue, however.  In most other regards, I believe that the defenses should be reasonably effective.  What is your opinion, Alastor?"

"The anti-jinx layer needs updating - won't protect against the newest jinxes and that latest one just out of Bulgaria's nothing for amateurs to try to handle - but the foundation wards are nice and solid," Moody told them gruffly.  "Updating the anti-jinxes is something we can address, but the real key is always the wards.  Can't do much to improve things unless you've got the fundamentals in place.  These are nice and old, aren't they?  Must be what, thirteenth century?" he demanded.

"Early fourteenth, actually," Catherine Clare said quietly.

"Well maintained," he said, with the air of one making a great concession.  "Tightly sealed, and pretty consistent.  You expect more fluctuation in some of these older ones - only stands to reason - but I can't say I've found it here.  If you're going to put him somewhere, this place - once I've attended to a few things - is probably as safe as any place else but his home."  The aging Auror's real eye regarded Dumbledore keenly.

"That doesn't mean I don't still think he ought to stay with those Muggle relatives of his for the rest of the summer," Moody added.

"You can't be seriously suggesting Harry should be forced to stay with those people any longer than absolutely necessary," Molly Weasley protested.  "You've met them, you know how they've treated him!"

"Have met 'em, and put the fear of my wand in 'em too," Moody retorted.  "They're not going to seriously mistreat him this summer any more than they did the last.  May not be _happy_, but he won't be happy _dead _either."

"We also need to consider how we're going to _get _him to his destination - whatever that may be," Kingsley Shaklebolt said, easily redirecting the conversation.  "There was a positive report from at least one patrol shift almost every day he was in that house last summer - and when I think of what _wasn't_ found and reported, and what it nearly cost us - well, it's enough to give anyone nightmares!  We know there's already movement afoot to put Apparition traps in place around Privet Drive, hoping to catch him that way now that he's got his license."

"Do we have any information about what Voldemort _expects_ us to do?" Catherine asked, apparently addressing Severus.  Snape shook his head.

"Not at this time," the Potions Master replied.  He hesitated a moment before adding, "I believe he too may be awaiting further information before making his decision."

Catherine Clare appeared to retire from the discussions after this, observing the continuing debate thoughtfully, but without further comment.  Remus refrained from expressing any opinion as well until Dumbledore spoke up and addressed him directly.

"What do you think, Remus?"

"I don't think we should make a decision until we have some idea what Harry wants to do," he said simply.  "He is old enough to have his wishes taken into consideration."

"Harry Potter is arrogant and irresponsible," Snape retorted with a sneer, ignoring Dumbledore's warning frown.  "I see no reason to inquire of him unless we intend to do the _opposite_ of whatever he suggests."

"He is no such thing!"  Minerva immediately jumped to his defense, glaring at Snape with open annoyance she repressed when students were present.  "Harry Potter – "

"Harry will be seventeen shortly," Dumbledore interjected rather thoughtfully, cutting her off.  "Why don't we table this discussion until the next meeting, shall we?  I will have a word with Harry in the interim.  Anything else?"  No one spoke.  "Then we are adjourned until next week."

Much to Remus' surprise, Cassie – _Catherine_, he reminded himself again – made her way to his side very soon after the official business concluded, pausing only for a brief word with Dumbledore.  He noted distractedly that her hair was a little longer and styled somewhat differently – it brushed her shoulders rather loosely now rather than clinging to the nape of her neck – and had to dismiss the thought to focus on what she was saying.

"I was hoping for a chance to speak with you privately at some point, but I have another appointment shortly.  Is there a time when it would be convenient for me to call on you?" she asked him directly.

"Perhaps we could speak either before or after the next meeting?" Remus suggested.

"If you could give me a few minutes after the next meeting, I would appreciate it."

"Of course."

"Thank you," she replied with the quick smile he remembered before returning to the general bustle and pleasantries as the other members of the Order took their leave.  

Remus himself was occupied for the next few minutes as well, being welcomed back those who had not had a chance to speak with him before the start of the meeting.  Their kindness warmed him, from Moody's gruff "Good to see you in one piece!" to Molly Weasley's motherly insistence that he join them for dinner soon.  Severus had left immediately of course, but nearly everyone else seemed to want to welcome him back.

By the time he had spoken at least a few words to all of them, only Dumbledore and Catherine remained.  The Headmaster paused in his conversation to come over and shake his hand.  "Remus, it's good to have you back again," the Headmaster told him.  "Catherine, dear, if you can wait for a moment, I'll show Remus out."  

"There's no need, I can find my own way out," he told them quietly.  "Miss Clare, it was very nice to meet you," he added before excusing himself.

****

By the time Remus arrived again at Stone House the following week, he had convinced himself that he had adjusted to the revelation of Cassie's true identity.  All he had to do was remember her new name and treat her as a relative stranger.  Considering how short a time he had known her under her former guise, this, he was sure, would not be difficult.  

He felt he did a good job of carrying this attitude off during the business portion of the next meeting of the Order, although he admittedly did not speak much.  After the meeting, he made inconsequential conversation while waiting for Catherine, who was deep in discussion with Dumbledore and Minerva.  

Remus thanked Molly and Arthur for their re-iterated - almost insistent - invitation to supper and promised to let them know when he would be free - and stopped Kingsley for a moment with a brief question on guard rotations.  Soon, Cassie's - _Catherine's_ - conversation concluded and Minerva hurried off, leaving Remus alone with Catherine and the Headmaster.  Then, with a single searching look at Remus, Dumbledore departed too.

"Thank you very much for agreeing to give me a few moments of your time," Catherine said.

"That's quite all right.  I'm at your disposal," he assured her, before remembering something else.  "I'm sorry I didn't respond to your earlier letters; I only received them a short time ago," he added apologetically.

"I understand.  Dumbledore explained."  Catherine glanced around at the windowless room.  "Would you mind if we adjourned to my study?  I can offer you something to drink as well, perhaps some tea?" she suggested.

"You drink tea?" he blurted out, then flushed awkwardly.  "I beg your pardon, I – "

Much to his relief, Catherine was laughing.  "I guess my 'American' sign is flashing noticeably today," she responded, obviously amused.  "I'm afraid that I've never really learned to drink tea myself, although I do keep it around for visitors.  Would you prefer something else?"  She was leading him through the huge central hall to the opposite side of the building.

"Tea is fine," he said, miserably aware that he hadn't managed to last two minutes after Dumbledore's departure without making a mistake.

She opened a set of doors at the end of another long hall and he realized something else.  "This is your house?" he asked, feeling rather stupid as they passed through one room and into another which was apparently their destination.

"Mmm-hmm," she confirmed absently, looking around for the tea tray.  It was perched on a low table between two cushiony sofas of brilliant blue positioned in front of the window, which was a long curving wall of floor-to-ceiling glass.  The water was piping hot, and there was a small tray of delectable-looking cakes as well.  

A few moments were occupied in the courtesies as she fixed his tea, and then he opened another topic of conversation.

"You have a lovely view," he commented, surveying the lush expanse of gardens and lawns.

"One of the reasons I like this room," she remarked, "although, unfortunately, the card room is probably better suited for meetings."

"Have you always lived here?" he asked, trying not to think about what she must have thought of his own home in comparison.  She wouldn't remember, of course, but he still did.

"Oh, no, I only moved here a little while ago.  I used to visit in the summers when my grandfather was alive – he's the one who left it to me – but I spent most of my time in the states after he died, except for holidays.  He was my mother's father," she explained.  "My own father was American."

"What brought you here?"  Remus wondered if the question was too personal, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Well, in a way, I suppose it was Sirius," she told him thoughtfully.  Remus' arm jerked, spilling some his tea into the saucer.

"Sorry," he said quickly, setting the cup down abruptly on the table.

"I'm so sorry," Catherine apologized.  "I shouldn't have just – "

"No, really, I was just surprised, I – " he broke off awkwardly.  "It's almost been a year, you see, and no one mentions him anymore, except Harry, of course," he told her honestly.

"Oh, dear," Catherine murmured, looking distressed.  "I really can't explain things to you properly without mentioning him, but I can try not to afterwards if you prefer?"

"No, don't do that," he told her, forcing himself to maintain his composure.  "I'd much rather you didn't."  She looked at him rather doubtfully, and he added, "Please go on."

"Perhaps I ought to back up a bit.  I don't know if you're aware that Sirius stayed with me for a little while a few years ago?"  Remus shook his head.  "In my home in the states, of course, it would have been, oh, two-and-a-half, nearly three years ago now."  She smiled in remembered amusement, before adding, "With Buckbeak!  He left very suddenly when he received some news about Harry, and he didn't take everything with him in his rush to leave," she explained.  "He did tell me that if anything happened to him, I should deliver what he left to you.  When I didn't hear from him for a while, I became concerned and tried to get in touch with you."

"I didn't know, I'm afraid, or I would have let you know as soon as it happened," Remus told her contritely.

"I'm not surprised," she admitted, somewhat ruefully.  "I gather you had more pressing problems to deal with in the immediate present, and I don't suppose he wanted to believe he wouldn't be back himself eventually."

Remus couldn't think of anything to say, but after a moment, Catherine continued.

"I hope that you'll understand that I need to make sure that you're the proper recipient," she told him apologetically.

"Yes, of course," Remus agreed, unsure what she meant.

"Tell me about Prongs," she said simply.

Remus replied steadily.  "Prongs was our name for James Potter, Harry's father."

"Thank you," she replied.  "The next one may be a little trickier, as Wormtail would have been able to tell me that.  Do you recall the time that he was laid up in the infirmary after an accident in Transfiguration in your fourth year?"

Remus thought back to that time and nodded.  Peter had accidentally switched his quill with the top hook of one of the chandeliers lighting the room.  It had fallen on him while he was frantically trying to switch it back.  The rest of the class had been canceled so Professor McGonagall could escort Peter to the infirmary.

"What did you want to do and what did you actually do after dinner?" she asked.

Remus struggled to recall that specific evening; it _had_ been a very long time ago.  "Well, Sirius and James wanted to come up with a way to make all the chandelier hooks turn into quills at the same time, but I talked them out of that.  I wanted to go to the library – I can't remember why – but the two of them were definitely not in the mood to study.  I think we talked about sneaking in to visit Peter, but someone told us he had been given a Sleeping Draught so there wasn't any point in that."  

Remus frowned in concentration, Catherine waiting impassively.  Why had Sirius chosen that evening, and what had they done?  It couldn't have been the night they had charmed the Slytherin's Quidditch robes (midway through the game, the players' names were replaced with a variety of humorous – and very rude – sayings) because they had told Peter later that they were the ones who had done it even though he wasn't with them at the time.  For the same reason, it couldn't be the night they had freed the Nifflers, or the time they switched the plants in greenhouses one and four.  The Marauders had been together almost constantly and had very few secrets from each other; what could they have done that they would have kept a secret from Peter?

"Of course," he whispered.  "We used the Invisibility Cloak and a Levitation Charm to sneak into the girls dormitory!  Peter was crazy about Marion Snarklebeau.  We overheard her doing her Divination homework, and she was convinced that the first guy to ask her out following the next planetary conjunction would be her true love.  We maneuvered Peter into asking her out at the right time, but we never told him why she finally accepted."  He looked up to find Catherine looking at him, apparently slightly amused, yet with a faint trace of sadness in her eyes.

"I think I should be thankful I never had to go to school with the four of you," she told him lightly.  "It's in the lab," she added, rising and leaving the study from a different door than the one they had used coming in.

The laboratory, adjacent to her study, was a fascinating room.  It was very well equipped – there were some items that Remus didn't recognize immediately and his curiosity was aroused – but he didn't have time to stop and examine anything as Catherine was leading him directly to a locked cupboard in the corner.  She used a key she kept on a fine chain about her wrist to open it before reaching in and pulling out the contents.

"A Pensieve?"  She nodded and placed the plain, but highly polished silver bowl on the counter before him.  Remus felt tears springing to his eyes.  Sirius had left some of his _memories_; he couldn't think of anything more precious Padfoot could have left him.

"Remus?" Catherine said, recalling his attention.  She looked somewhat uncomfortable.

"Yes?"

"I probably ought to warn you," she began hesitantly, "before you use it.  You see, when Sirius was with me, he was – "  Catherine seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

"Catherine, just go ahead and say it," he told her very directly, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to have only just met her.  "Even if you think it will upset me."

Catherine sighed.  "When Sirius first broke out of Azkaban, he had a mission he had to focus on – getting to Peter before he could attack Harry.  After he had to flee on Buckbeak, it was a bit different.  He no longer had to focus himself so completely on saving Harry, and when he was at my house he no longer needed to work so hard to survive.  He had food, and shelter, and some level of security, although I doubt it was ever really _safe_ for him, and some freedom from the Dementors."

"Go on," he prompted, not yet entirely sure where this was leading.

"Sirius didn't have an easy time dealing with what he'd been through.  He had a lot of nightmares – bad ones – and sometimes he had problems even when he was awake.  That's why I suggested the Pensieve."

Remus absorbed this.  "So you think he used this to hold the really bad memories, to get them out of his head and deal with them more – objectively, as an observer."

"I'm afraid so," she admitted.  "Not _entirely_, I hope.  Some of the things he said make me think he was starting to remember some of the good times as well, when all of you were together before James and Lily were killed.  I think he toyed with the idea of sharing some of his better memories with his godson, so he could get to know his parents a little better.  I don't really know since I haven't examined it – he left it for you – but I did want to warn you."

"I see."  Remus pulled out his wand and stared into the swirls of silver contained in the Pensieve.  Concentrating on James, he was pleased to see some memories of Prongs surface, his old friend's face flashing from time to time within the depths.  Then he tried concentrating on Dementors, and the Pensieve responded with what appeared to be a tidal wave contained within the circumference of the bowl as countless memories fought for supremacy.  He stepped back from it.

"I believe you were right," he told Catherine quietly.  "On all points."  She was regarding him with sympathy and refrained from commenting.

"I'll need to spend some time sorting through them to separate out the ones I can pass on to Harry," he said thoughtfully, more to himself than to her.  He looked down at the mass of silver swirls flowing through each other in the Pensieve.  "That's going to take quite a while I'm afraid."

"Would you like to work here?" she asked.

"You mean, in your lab?" he asked, with another swift look around.  The facilities were so much better than anything he would be able to contrive at home that it would definitely be worth the commute.

"Well, yes, but I was also inviting you to stay.  You see, I seem to be hosting a sort of house party for the Order this summer," she explained.  "The Weasleys will be coming a little before school lets out and probably staying until it resumes again in the fall - it's quite a bit closer to Hogwarts for them than The Burrow is.  Moody's coming next week – I think he's still determined to update the anti-jinxes – " her eyes twinkled as she spoke, " – and many of the others will be in and out all summer as well, whatever is decided about where Harry spends the holidays.  I'd like to extend the same invitation to you, for the summer, or for whatever portion of it suits you."

"Thank you, I'd like that," Remus was surprised to hear himself responding.  _It couldn't hurt to spend some more time with her._  "That is, unless Dumbledore has any other plans for me."

"Well, just send me an owl and let me know if - and hopefully when - I can expect you."  Her eyes fell on the Pensieve he was still holding.  "Would you like to take it with you?  I know it can be a little tricky to manage while you're flying, but I do have - "

Remus shook his head.  "I'd just as soon leave it here, if you don't mind, at least until my plans are more settled.  If it won't inconvenience you, of course."

"Not at all," she told him, slipping the key chain off her wrist and handing it to him.  The ready gesture pleased him, although there was really no reason it should, and he decided that he had better bring this meeting to a close.  Accordingly, he excused himself gracefully in a few minutes, having thanked her and promised to owl her about her invitation.


	6. Stone House

Remus held off a bit on sending Catherine an owl - mostly because he was surprised at how much he wanted to write that he would be coming right away. Then he wondered whether she knew he was a werewolf - although it seemed likely since Sirius had obviously trusted her with quite a bit of information about the Marauders - and whether it was fair to her to accept her invitation without making sure it was not one she would regret issuing later.

He found himself staring thankfully at his new robes before putting them away in the bureau after he did the laundry, and told himself sternly that his behavior was becoming quite ridiculous. Instead of writing to Catherine, he wrote a note to Harry, telling himself that he didn't need to make a decision about visiting Stone House right away.

Trying to distract himself, Remus finally accepted Arthur and Molly's invitation to supper. Remus enjoyed the homelike clutter of The Burrow, Molly's wonderful cooking, and Arthur's refreshingly childlike enthusiasm for Muggle objects. Alastor, Kingsley, and Tonks joined them as well, and Remus was having a very pleasant evening in this convivial company until it occurred to him with a sudden flash of insight that Molly had arranged Tonks' presence for his benefit. It would have been more noticeable if she had arranged for an even number of men and women, but Molly was quite shrewd enough to avoid anything that obvious.

What Remus could not figure out was _why_ Molly would think he and Tonks were well-matched. The young woman gamboled about cheerfully, reminding Remus of an enthusiastic and affectionate puppy, clumsily eager to please. While there were some similarities in their professional interests, Remus felt that the obvious disparities in their ages and experiences rather negated that as a potential foundation for a relationship. Remus liked teaching very well, but he wasn't interested in acquiring his own personal student as either a girlfriend or a wife.

He wondered wryly if he was getting too staid.

While Molly was taking care of the dishes, have firmly refused all offers of assistance - including Tonks' very earnest one - Remus was able to bring up a subject he had been wanted to introduce for some time.

"I understand that you might be visiting Stone House over the summer," he said to Arthur very casually, partly as this was not a secure area for conversation about Order business and partly for reasons of his own.

"Oh, yes, we're looking forward to it," his host said cheerfully. "A pleasant break for Molly, too, with the house-elves taking care of everything. Very nice of Catherine to offer, especially with so many of us. She's asked you too?"

"Yes, she did, but my plans for the summer are not settled yet," Remus replied lightly.

"Capable woman," Moody pronounced gruffly. "Good reputation when she was an Auror, not that that's anything to judge by. Said it to me herself: 'Reputation only addresses whether you've been found out!'"

"I didn't know she had been an Auror," Remus said.

"Quit some time ago. Switched to prosecution instead. Weird rules they have there, but after watching Fudge foul things up, well, you have to admit the American system has its advantages. Not very efficient, though."

"Mum remembers a bit about a wedding at Stone House," Tonks chimed in unexpectedly. Arthur frowned in concentration.

"Now that you mention it, I may have gone too." He shook his head dismissively. "Too young to remember much about it, I guess."

Alastor Moody chuckled unexpectedly. "Only excuse for not remembering it I'd believe, saving a Memory Charm! Biggest damn show I've ever seen. People talked about it for years. _Live _griffins - not transfigured, mind - for a ceremonial flyover. Full orchestra for the ceremony, and the Genoa Gypsies _and_ Clarinda Lark for the reception! Gardens decorated with every charm on the market, and more food than I've ever seen in my life. Looked like old Wilamber was prepared to feed every person attending the Quidditch World Cup."

"Whose wedding was it?" Remus asked.

"When Miranda Valens married Richard Clare," Moody grinned. "Funniest thing I've ever seen."

"Mum didn't mention that," Tonks said with interest.

"Probably too young to the humor in it," Moody admitted.

Arthur looked mildly surprised. "I always thought it was supposed to be a good match."

"Oh, it was," Moody assented. "Surprised a few people at the time - Miranda had a pretty fiery temper, and a lot of folks underestimated Richard, him being the quiet type - but he always knew which way his wand was pointing! Only man I ever met who could handle Miranda, and she was smart enough to know it. Handled her father too, come to think of it."

"So why was the wedding funny?" Tonks asked, obviously puzzled. A devilish gleam appeared in Moody's real eye before he answered.

"Old Wilamber throwing Galleons around like water, and he still couldn't buy the only thing he wanted!" Moody chortled. "Damnedest thing I ever saw! Richard wanted to be independent and Miranda backed him to the hilt, no matter what her father offered to keep them here. No marriage settlements, no house, no cushy job, no vault full of Galleons. Only thing they took was the wedding, and the smart money said Richard had to talk Miranda into that. She hated that sort of fuss, but he thought they should go along with it for her parents' sake."

Moody took another swallow from his ever-present hip flask and pursed his lips. "Strange thing is, Wilamber and Richard got on fine later," he continued, "once he stopped trying to make his decisions for him, that is. Old Wilamber died before Michael was born, and he left every last Sickle to little Catherine instead of Miranda - but with _Richard_ as the trustee! Heard Miranda was pleased as punch about it. Damned odd streak in that family."

"Maybe she was just happy to know her father liked him," Tonks said brightly.

"Some people have been known to overlook that point when the control of a large estate is involved," Kingsley pointed out with some humor.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

When Arthur and Molly settled on a date for their transfer from The Burrow to Stone House for the summer, Remus decided to owl Catherine that he was accepting her invitation and would arrive the same day as the Weasleys. It would still give him time to work on the Pensieve before Harry's birthday without his arriving too far in advance of the majority of the other members of the Order. When the day came at last, he said good-bye to Uncle Bertie, finished closing and locking up the house, and set off for Stone House with his new robes packed neatly in his battered trunk.

He arrived at almost the same time the Weasleys did. He could see Catherine greeting Arthur, Molly, and Bill on the front steps just as he was heading in for a landing. As he dismounted, Arthur was still talking excitedly to their hostess while Molly was directing her large assortment of trunks and her only available offspring with a motherly air. Bill winked companionably at Remus as he mounted the steps.

"Remus, how nice to see you," Catherine Clare told him, clasping his hand warmly. "I'm so glad you could come."

"I'm very pleased to be here. It was most kind of you to invite me." He stepped back as soon as she had greeted him to allow her to turn back to the Weasleys for a moment.

"Arthur, I've put you and Molly in northwest wing." Remus thought he saw a momentary appraisal in her glance before she called lightly, "Knoggin?" and an enthusiastic young house-elf appeared, smiling up at her.

"Knoggin, I'd like you to show the Weasleys to their rooms now, if you don't mind. They are very important guests, and I would like you _personally_ to make sure that they're properly taken care of. Will you do that for me?" Knoggin swelled importantly as she spoke, and Remus thought humorously that he looked as if he might have burst from excitement if she hadn't stopped when she did.

"Oh, _yes_, Miss Catherine, Knoggin will take _good_ care of the Weasleys for you." In an instant, the luggage vanished and Knoggin was addressing himself deferentially to Arthur, "If Sir will follow Knoggin, Knoggin will take you to your rooms?" The young house-elf led them proudly off, Arthur following obediently in his wake, accompanied by his wife and oldest son. Now that the mass of luggage was out of her sight, Molly looked quite relieved.

Catherine turned back to Remus. "Shall I show you up now?" she asked. "You can leave your broom first if you like." Remus smiled his acknowledgment, leaving his broom in its now-accustomed place just off the main hall and following his hostess. Rather to his surprise, she did not lead him up one of the four main staircases, but down the hall toward her study.

"I've put you in a rather unusual room," she told him as they walked, "but it had some advantages I thought you might appreciate, one of which is that it's very convenient to the lab. There's another staircase that leads right up to it that I wanted to show you, so I thought we'd go up that way." Catherine Clare had reached the end of the hall, and Remus recalled that they had passed through another room on the way to her study; they were re-entering it now.

"You can get to the lab directly right through those doors," she told him, gesturing at another set of double doors leading off of the room. Glancing around quickly, he saw that it was cheerfully decorated in yellow, blue, and white, and contained a number of small desks and some comfortable looking reading chairs. Catherine started up the elegant spiral staircase he hadn't noticed when he passed through the room previously.

Following her, he emerged near a cozy seating area in an upper corridor. There were large expanses of glass looking out to the east as well as to the hallway that bisected the house. She pushed open some double doors on the south wall and stepped aside to let him enter.

He took only a few steps before he stopped. He was facing a breathtaking view through an enormous wall of glass that curved away in front of him, and he realized with a start that this room encompassed all of the glass curve that formed one of the corners of the Stone House. The view from Catherine's study below had comprised only a part. As he regained his bearings, he managed to take in other details about the room - the welcoming seating area in front of the fireplace, the quilted duvet cover with accents of coral and aqua on a soothing background of ivory and sand, the comfortable desk adjoining a wall of bookshelves - but it was the view that had captured his attention so completely the moment he stepped in the room.

Catherine had followed him in, and seemed slightly disconcerted by his reaction.

"I can easily move you down the hall if you prefer," she was telling him, as he continued to stand there immobile. "I know that so much light can be a little - "

"It's beautiful," he interrupted. "I love it. Thank you." She smiled, and he thought she looked rather relieved.

"Tea will be in the family room - it's the corner room on the rear left side of the central hall - if you'd like to join us when you have a chance to freshen up," she told him, excusing herself and leaving him to unpack.

This he managed very quickly - he hadn't brought very much anyway - leaving him with plenty of time to enjoy a relaxing soak in the private bath he hadn't even seen in his first view of the room. It was behind the wall on which the bed was located, and accessible from either side. He now understood what Catherine had meant when she described the room as unusual, but he thought it was cleverly laid out with great attention paid to occupant's comfort. It was also a great relief to know why she had described the room that way, as her choice of words had brought up a number of irrational fears.

There were half a dozen people for tea - Moody joined them as well - which Remus later came to think of as an unusually small group. Even before school let out for the summer holidays, most of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were in and out from time to time, although Dumbledore and the members of the staff never stayed overnight during the school term. Catherine simply set aside rooms for each of them to use when they were there, and they came and went according to their individual schedules.

Tonks, who was assigned the room next to his - Remus wondered if Molly Weasley had anything to do with that - stayed at Stone House most of the time. Sturgis Podmore, who seemed to regard it as a safe haven of sorts, spent most of his time there as well. Although he was noticeably better than he had been the previous winter, the aftereffects of his time in Azkaban still lingered, and Remus kept a careful - albeit unobtrusive - watch on him.

Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge both had families of their own, and stayed only when coming off duty too late to justify the trip home. Arabella Figg generally remained in her home on Privet Drive during the week, but always came for at least the weekend. The older woman seemed to enjoy herself greatly during her visits, and Remus wondered if there were any members of her original family left. In some ways, she was more cut off from the magical community than he was, so Remus tried to make her feel welcome when he could.

As life at Stone House settled into a routine for the summer, Remus turned his attention more fully to the matter of preparing Sirius' Pensieve for Harry's birthday.

Catherine Clare had been able to supply him with additional Pensieves to facilitate the sorting. He was rather surprised to find that she had access to additional ones until he found, on closer examination, that "_Property of the U.S. Magic Department, Justice Division, Office of the Prosecutor General_" was stamped in tiny letters around the base of each one.

Remus set a schedule for himself, trying to make sure he put in enough time working on the Pensieve to ensure it was ready in time. He was rather dismayed to find that he had underestimated the number of Dementor memories in the Pensieve. He had hoped to enjoy the exercise of separating the bad memories from the good ones, but there were so many more of the former to sort through that he started wondering if he should be rationing the latter. He didn't want to run out of good memories while he was still struggling through the bad ones.

One afternoon while he was considering this, his thoughts strayed to Catherine, and he was surprised to see her image appear in the Pensieve. He stared at it for a moment in shock, feeling something clench painfully within. Then, refusing to allow himself to put it off, he plunged in.

Sirius was prowling restlessly around a room that Remus did not recognize. Remus studied Padfoot's appearance for clues, and quickly decided that this must be a memory from the summer between Harry's third and fourth years. Sirius looked much older than most of Remus' memories of him that pre-dated Grimmauld Place, and his eyes held lingering traces of that haunted look Remus had seen in them that night in the Shrieking Shack. But his face was filling out, and he looked much healthier, striding across the room with the loose-limbed gait of a natural athlete.

Remus followed Sirius as he wandered out on to a low balcony overlooking a small pool - and there was Catherine, moving easily through the water. The pool was delightfully secluded from the neighbors, lush tropical landscaping it screening it from view and muffling the sounds in the distance. Sirius relaxed a little as he felt the last rays of the evening sun on his skin, and some of the tension ebbed from his face.

Remus wondered why Sirius had included this memory in the Pensieve; it seemed in many ways to be a very ordinary one, but then Remus turned to watch Catherine, and found himself entranced. She was wearing a perfectly respectable once-piece swimsuit in a conservative cut, but there was something about the way the underwater lights of the pool cast her figure in silhouette as she moved through the water -

With great discipline, Remus forced himself to turn back to Sirius and found his friend watching Catherine with a dawning wonder in his eyes.

Then Sirius started to smile, and the smile became an outright grin, and then he was laughing out loud in sheer, exuberant delight. As he laughed, he threw his head back, and the slight shift in his stance, coupled with a soft ripple of evening air against his robes, explained everything.

Remus' eyes flew to Catherine, wondering whether he ought to set the remainder of this memory aside unseen. She hadn't seemed to realize Sirius was there until the sound of his joy rang out in the still of the evening. Glancing over at the balcony in the dim light, Catherine hoisted herself out of the pool and casually cast a Drying Charm.

"You sound happy," she called to Sirius, who was still some distance from her.

"I am," he told her, still grinning like a madman. He leaned down to talk to her more easily, bracing his forearms on the balcony railing and allowing his robes to swing forward in concealment.

"I've just recovered something I thought the Dementors had taken from me a long time ago," Sirius told her in his still-raspy voice.

"A good memory?" Catherine asked idly, slipping on a house robe.

"Something like that," Sirius answered, still grinning.

Much to Remus' relief, the memory ended there, and he caught the wisp of silver on the tip of his wand as he tried to decide what to do. _Not yet_, he decided, moving it to the appropriate Pensieve. _Maybe when Harry's older_. He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind that questioned whether he would ever want Harry to see this particular memory.

Now that they were once again living in the same house, Remus got to spend time with Catherine again, although not nearly as much as before. With so many other people in and out of Stone House, it would have been rude of him to monopolize too much of his hostess' time.

Other than during meals, he was most likely to get to see her in the evenings. The group tended to retire to the family room after dinner, where people could relax and chat around the fire, listen to the light music Hestia produced playing softly on the piano when she was in the mood, or play games at the table according to their dispositions.

Remus particularly enjoyed playing games, which reminded him of their time together before, even if Catherine didn't remember it. The games were now group games instead of two-player ones, and Molly's professed interest in card games meant that they tended to play those - they hadn't even brought out the Tournament board once yet - but Remus was pleased to participate just the same.

He found out as time passed that Tonks, who often joined them as well, had a definite preference for the card games Molly proposed, and felt a momentary wave of affectionate exasperation with the red-headed matchmaker. He knew she meant well, but he would prefer to choose for himself and do his own courting when the time came - not that he was in a position to court anyone at the moment. If he were honest about it, he wasn't likely to be at any foreseeable time in the future, but he resolutely put the thought out of his mind.

All he was doing at the moment, he told himself, was enjoying Catherine's company and the chance to develop their friendship. He really didn't need to think about anything else at present - or wonder what her relationship with Sirius had been.


	7. Transit

Remus paused for a moment to steady himself against the laboratory counter before moving on. The memory of Dementors lacked the powers of real Dementors of course - one of the reasons a Pensieve was useful to Sirius for dealing with the memories - but it did nothing to insulate Remus from the strain of seeing Sirius suffering. Watching the agony in his eyes, the struggle to hold on to his sanity and even his identity - the moments when it was all too much for him -

Raising a hand to brush a stray hair away from his forehead, Remus discovered that he was shaking.

"_Remus!_" Catherine's voice as she said his name was an odd intermingling of distress, anger, and sympathy. He looked up and realized he hadn't noticed her enter the laboratory - a sign that he had to be _much_ more tired than he had realized.

Then she was sweeping him out of the laboratory and into the haven of her study, where she deposited him in the chair just inside the door, a softly-cushioned yellow reading chair.

"Soma!" Catherine called, and a motherly little house-elf popped into view. "Food and chocolate," she directed succinctly, kneeling beside him and regarding him with concern.

"Kate, what - " Remus tried to protest, unaware that the shortened version of her name would slip out until he heard himself use it.

"You've been working too long," she told him firmly, apparently unoffended by his informality.

"I'm fine, really," he said mildly, unwillingly flattered by her concern. "I'll stop when it's time for dinner." She shot him a look that told him more eloquently than words what her opinion was of _that_. "I promise," he said, smiling at her just as an overloaded tray popped into view.

Kate rose to take the tray and arranged it herself to be convenient for Remus before she replied.

"Have you any idea how you're going to keep that promise without using a Time-Turner?" she inquired in a carefully controlled voice. "Because the rest of us finished eating quite some time ago."

Remus looked up at Kate, startled, and then checked the time. He could feel the faint flush of guilt at his own discourtesy, however unintentional it was, and looked back at her to apologize, but she stopped him with a single gesture toward the tray.

Obediently, and with some inward amusement, Remus starting eating.

Under Kate's critical eye, he finished the hot, creamy soup starter, and all the main course of chicken and dumplings with assorted vegetables. He faltered a bit on the salad, but made good progress on the large wedge of chocolate cream pie before he settled back with his coffee.

He had to admit that he did feel much better after eating, and resolved to make more of an effort to ensure he made it to meals on time. It was terribly inconsiderate of him to worry her this way.

"I'm sorry, Kate, it was very rude of me not to show up for dinner and disrupt the household this way," he said with genuine contrition. Kate waved his apology away and settled down on the floor next to his chair.

"I don't care about _that_, but you can't go on pushing yourself like this, it's not good for you," she told him earnestly.

"I want to get this done for Harry's birthday," he said mildly.

"Harry will be happy enough to get it whenever you give it to him, it's not going to matter whether or not it's his birthday," Kate's voice was rather tart.

"It matters to me," he explained gently.

She didn't reply for a moment, running her hand through her hair. She had had it trimmed and re-styled a bit so it again looked as he had remembered it. Remus found himself distracted by the way the soft waves fell after her fingers had disordered them. Finally she said, "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me." Remus smiled at her, involuntarily warmed by her concern. He took another sip of coffee, watching her turn things over in her mind before she looked up at him with a decision and a plea in her blue-gray eyes.

"Will you let me help you?" she asked. "Just with the Dementors? That's the part that's bothering you, isn't it?" Remus set his coffee cup down, frowning.

"I do appreciate the offer, but - "

"You would still be taking care of the rest, and you could do another check of the Dementor memories after Harry's birthday if you wanted," Kate rushed on, "but you could do it at an easier pace."

"Kate, it's really not necessary," he told her firmly.

She fell silent for a moment, then, not meeting his eyes, said "Dumbledore would do it if you asked him."

"It is _not_ a matter of not trusting you. Kate, how could you think that?" he asked, genuinely distressed.

"Remus, you need help and you won't let me help you!"

"I don't want to let Sirius down," he blurted out. "This is the last thing he asked me to do, how can I fob it off on someone else?"

"Oh, Remus, _no_," she had reached out and caught his hands, and she was looking up at him with such sympathetic understanding that he dropped his eyes. "You _can't _think that Sirius would expect you to go through something like this when it isn't necessary," she told him gently. "He asked me to give you the Pensieve because he _trusted_ you, not because he was trying to hurt you. He wouldn't want you to put yourself through this out of loyalty to him. It isn't a test, for heaven's sake!" Her voice when she finished was recovering a bit of its edge, a fact he found obscurely comforting.

He was gripping her hands rather harder than he intended, and took a deep breath. "I guess I was being a little silly," he admitted.

"No you weren't, you were just trying to be a good friend," she told him illogically. He forced himself to release her hands.

"If your offer's still open - "

"Of course it is."

"Perhaps, after breakfast tomorrow?"

"Whenever you like."

"And Kate - thank you."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus smiled as he captured the wisp of silver with his wand and transferred it to the Pensieve for Harry. Things were moving along in a much better fashion since Catherine had begun to help him. He got to spend more of his time on happy memories like these without having to watch Sirius suffering. He turned to thank Kate for her support and found her frowning into her Pensieve.

"Kate?"

"Mmm?" She looked up.

"Is everything all right?" She didn't seem to be in distress, but maybe he was missing something.

"I'm not sure," she told him slowly. "Do you know anyone named Lina?"

"I don't think so."

"What about Lucius?"

"Lucius Malfoy?" Remus asked.

"Maybe." Kate leaned back against the counter. "Who is he?"

"One of Voldemort's Death Eaters, but the Ministry has him in custody. Kate, why are you asking about him?"

Her forehead creased in thought. "I was trying to make sense out of something Sirius overheard in one of the Dementor memories. It didn't seem to mean anything to him, but he was a little, um, - "

"I understand," Remus told her, remembering how Sirius had appeared in some of those memories. "Do you think it's significant?" Kate thought about it for a moment and finally shook her head.

"Probably not. We don't even know who Lina is - and it was years ago - and I'm probably just being paranoid," she concluded with a wry smile. "Sort of an occupational hazard."

"You seem to have it under control," he pointed out with some humor, deciding to call a halt for the day and returning the first of the Pensieves he was using to the cupboard. "Unless you've been too paranoid to admit that you've been seeing attackers in every doorway and spies behind every curtain," he teased. Kate grinned and started to put her Pensieves away as well.

"Not too paranoid, just too practical," she parried. "Considering that we're in the middle of a war, things are going reasonably well. As soon as we have a string of really bad luck, I'll probably start seeing Lethifolds in every shadow!"

"You may have to wait a while then. We had our run of bad luck last fall, which probably means the odds ought to be in our favor for at least a little while longer." Remus remembered that Dumbledore wouldn't want him discussing last fall with her because of her visit to him as Cassie and decided he'd better change the subject. "Dumbledore says that everyone accepted. The pool party was a great idea. Thank you for offering; I think the kids will really enjoy it."

Kate's eyes sparkled as she answered him. "The house-elves may enjoy it more than the kids do! They're having the time of their lives with so many new people to fuss over. I think that if I ever move back to the states, I may need to convert Stone House to a bed and breakfast to keep them happy," she joked.

It hadn't occurred to him that she might leave again. "Do you think you might?" he asked, very casually.

"Open a B and B?" she asked, obviously amused.

"Go back to the states," he said, his heart thumping uncomfortably somewhere in the region of his throat as he waited to hear her answer. Kate seemed to consider the question as they started out of the laboratory and back to her study.

"Not until this is resolved," she said finally. "I'm just struggling with trying to figure out when that will be. Fighting Voldemort is more important than anything else at present, but it's hard to see when this is going to come to an end. Technically I'm on leave from my job, although I still put in time on some things I couldn't really hand off, but I'm starting to wonder whether I'm going to be able to go back within a reasonable time."

Kate settled down, not in her desk chair, but on one of the comfortable sofas in front of the window, tucking her legs under her in a way he was coming to think of as peculiarly _hers_. He studied her expression carefully as she looked out the window, lost in thought.

"You're thinking about resigning," he said aloud. She nodded.

"I've been waiting to see how things were going," she admitted ruefully. "I didn't think I'd have to make a decision until much closer to the time my leave was up, and a lot could happen between now and then. I would hate to give up my job and then have Voldemort captured the following week, but now I - well, I don't know if it's fair to keep it under the circumstances." Kate sighed, and added "Maybe I should have a talk with my boss when I'm over there next week."

"You'll be there next week?"

"For a few hours on Thursday night," she said, turning away from the window.

"The full moon will be that Saturday," he murmured.

"Mmm-hmm. Is there anything I should be doing to make you more comfortable?" Kate asked. She seemed to think it was a perfectly ordinary question, although Remus could not recall anyone ever having asked it before, much less in just that way.

"Not really," he replied in the same vein. "I think Severus is planning to brew the Wolfsbane Potion here rather than at Hogwarts if you don't mind."

"I pretty much stay out of the potions lab since I offered to let him use it," she told him, humor lightening her blue-gray eyes. "I don't think it's large enough to accomodate more than one master - not that I would qualify."

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Meetings of the Order were much more convenient now that he was living in the same building where they were held. On this occasion, and after some discussion, Dumbledore had announced that Harry would be spending the summer at Hogwarts, arriving shortly before his seventeenth birthday. Remus was asked to handle the arrangements for escorting Harry back to the school, a challenge complicated by the intense level of interest directed at Harry from all sides and the apparent desire of everyone in the Order to join the escort. So many witches and wizards flying together would certainly have drawn unwelcome attention, so some of the escort would be Disillusioned this time as well.

One of the few who hadn't volunteered for escort duty was Catherine, who had already offered to provide a distraction in front of the house to improve the Order's chances of getting Harry safely away out the back. They needed something that wouldn't be immediately linked to them but would still draw attention. She didn't share the details of her plans with anyone but Dumbledore, but he seemed to be satisfied, so Remus focused his own attention on worrying about Harry's escort and didn't press her for further information.

When Dumbledore looked around at the end of the meeting and inquired, "Anything else?" as he always did, Remus was rather surprised to see that Severus Snape began to speak.

"There is another matter I would like us to discuss," the Potions Master began, "After some consideration, I am coming to the conclusion that the Order would benefit from further assistance with regard to potions." Remus thought the Headmaster looked a little startled. Severus turned his cool black eyes on Dumbledore's light ones, his expression unreadable to Remus. "As more of my time is devoted to - other activities - I have less time available to keep up with the demand."

"I see," the Headmaster replied calmly. "Do you have a proposal in mind?"

"If there is anyone within the Order who would agree to assist me in handling some of the less complex potions, my available time might be better used," Snape said, his words precisely enunciated.

Remus felt a wave of surprise ripple through the room, which remained silent. It was almost out of character for the Potions Master to imply that anyone else could be even minimally competent in his field of expertise. Now that he had done so - but without naming a proposed assistant - it would take an extraordinary amount of gall to present oneself as a candidate. They all knew Severus' standards. Remus was almost relieved that, knowing how Snape felt about him, he would not be expected to volunteer even if his skill as a potion-brewer had been much greater than it actually was.

Just before the silence changed from awkward to oppressive, Catherine Clare, who was seated next to him, spoke up.

"I understand that you have a fair amount of talent for potions, Molly," she said. Molly Weasley looked somewhat startled, and Remus thought he saw a tinge of pink touch her complexion.

"Well, maybe when I was in school," she demurred, "but that was a long time ago." Severus was regarding her with a calculating air, but said nothing.

"Well, Molly, if you're willing to give it a try again, I'm sure it will come back to you quickly," the Headmaster said, after a quick glance at Professor Snape. "Anything else? Then we're adjourned."

As everyone started to rise from the table, Remus leaned over to catch Catherine Clare's arm.

"How did you know Molly Weasley did well in Potions in school?" he asked curiously, keeping his voice low. Catherine glanced over to where Severus was now speaking to Molly on the other side of the room.

"I didn't," she admitted quietly, her eyes dancing. "But everyone kept telling me what a good cook she is, and it's really the same thing, isn't it?"

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Kate, who was absorbed in a card game with Tonks, Hestia and Sturgis, had looked up when Remus excused himself on the night of the full moon and given him a warm smile before returning her attention to her hand. Somehow, it seemed to stay with him even as he headed up the stairs to his room. He had already finished his Wolfsbane Potion and started mentally running through his personal checklist. He wizard-locked the doors carefully, put his robes away in the wardrobe, and settled down to wait.

Although the Wolfsbane Potion allowed Remus to keep his mind when he transformed, his instincts were still those of the wolf he became. As long as his mind was intact, these were manageable, but some things seemed to translate somehow between his werewolf and human states. If Remus was hungry when he transformed, then his wolf version would be hungry. He didn't allow himself to eat in his wolf state, but that merely meant he became irritable in addition to being hungry.

All things considered, it made a lot more sense just to eat a proper dinner.

That night his transformation was remarkably easy - possibly the most comfortable one he remembered. What he thought of as his wolf side was almost docile, quite content to curl up on the floor in front of the fireplace, replete with a sense of well-being.

Remus was pleased to think that after all these years, and with the aid of the Potion, he was finally becoming adept at handling his transformations.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Uncle Vernon frowned in annoyance. "Damned helicopters," he muttered under his breath. He raised the volume on the television with the remote control. "No consideration at all. Fly wherever they want whenever they please, and never mind those of us who want to enjoy a peaceful evening at home."

Harry thought that the sounds of gunfire and explosions issuing from Dudley's room upstairs at all hours of the night were a lot more annoying than the mild and distant whir that his uncle found so offensive, but didn't bother to say so. He no longer kept silent out of prudence – with the threats issued by various members of the Order of dire consequences for the Dursleys should Harry be mistreated in any way he no longer feared them. Compared to Voldemort, Uncle Vernon was scarcely worth thinking about.

Now that he had only one year of school left, Harry was determined that when he left the Dursleys' home on Privet Drive this year, he would _never_ return to it again – Voldemort or no.

Still, he didn't say anything to Uncle Vernon about the noise from Dudley's room – the intrusive sounds were features of his current electronic game – as it would only produce a stupid argument which would accomplish nothing. So Harry didn't bother.

"Damn those bloody – " Uncle Vernon was swearing again and reaching for the remote control.

"Vernon, what is it?" Aunt Petunia asked him in her querulous voice, coming in from the kitchen wiping her hands on a tea towel. She no longer expected Harry to do the dishes.

"That blasted helicopter must be flying right through our neighborhood. Is the bloody pilot on some sort of joy ride? I've a good mind to complain to the authorities. Right after dinner, too. No consideration!"

Aunt Petunia had stepped over to peer out the window. "He does seem to be flying rather low," she said with interest.

"See! What did I tell you?" Uncle Vernon's beefy face was now dark red with triumphant rage.

"Maybe there's a problem with the helicopter," Harry pointed out unthinkingly. Aunt Petunia gasped.

"Oh, Vernon, do you think it might _crash_?" she demanded, peering out the window even more avidly than before. Vernon Dursley actually turned off the television and heaved his corpulent form out of his new reclining chair to join his wife at the window. The thumping of the rotors was quite loud now, albeit a little uneven.

"Well, well, well," he muttered in ill-suppressed satisfaction. "I do believe it might. Serves them right, I say."

"Oh, _Vernon_," Aunt Petunia gasped in horrified delight, her bony hand clutching her chest.

"Nothing to worry about, Petunia," Uncle Vernon pronounced with an air of superiority that made Harry roll his eyes behind them.

"Vernon, I think it's coming down _here_," Petunia whispered. Harry rose and went to look out the window next to theirs. The sound was very loud now, with erratic little spurts of noise. It definitely sounded as though something was wrong.

"Shouldn't we call someone?" Harry asked. His aunt and uncle remained firmly in front of the window, although Uncle Vernon grunted in a manner Harry decided to interpret as agreement. Harry took one last look out the window – the helicopter was almost down in the middle of the street and all up and down Privet Drive, doors were opening and curtains were being pulled back as everyone hurried to look – before heading to the kitchen to use the telephone.

As Harry walked into the kitchen, he saw Remus and Tonks slipping in through the back door. Remus immediately raised a finger to his lips, while Tonks grinned at him and waved the broom she was carrying cheerfully in silent greeting.

Harry hurried over to Remus' side.

"Not a bad distraction," Professor Lupin said very softly. "Are you ready to leave?"

Harry nodded eagerly, thrilled that the time had come at last. "I'm all packed."

"Tonks will get Hedwig's cage and your trunk," Remus explained quietly as the Metamorphmagus slipped away, bumping into the kitchen table as she passed. He drew out a letter from his robes and handed it to Harry. "You can leave that in your room for your aunt and uncle." Harry grimaced at this but accepted it.

"We're going to wait a little while to make sure everyone is fully occupied with what's going on in the street before we leave. Wait upstairs with your Firebolt, and when Moody thinks it's clear, he will send the signal." Professor Lupin handed Harry a small object that looked a bit like a large blue marble but felt warm in Harry's hand.

"When this turns yellow, mount your broom and hover outside the second rear window. We'll be off as soon as you've been Disillusioned. Some of your escort will be Disillusioned as well. Dumbledore told you where to go if we get separated?" Harry nodded. "See you soon then." With a brief clasp of Harry's shoulder, Remus slipped out the back door again and Harry was left alone.

His spirits rising at the thought that he was finally leaving Privet Drive forever, Harry entered the hall and saw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia standing on the front lawn, chatting excitedly with Mr. and Mrs. Next Door. Aunt Petunia's head was darting around birdlike at the end of her long thin neck in her eagerness to make sure nothing escaped her attention. Uncle Vernon was rocking importantly back and forth on his heels as he held forth and strangely, illogically, and unreasonably, Harry felt a tiny surge of affection for them.

They had taken him in very unwillingly and treated him horribly – but Harry still felt a tinge of nostalgic warmth as he saw them for the last time. It wasn't that he wanted to see them again, but still –

Giving in to impulse, Harry snatched up a pen from the hall table and, after hesitating a moment, scrawled a single word on the envelope addressed to them – "_Thanks_" – before he hurried up the stairs for the last time.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

The flight from Privet Drive to Hogwarts was a very long one, especially flown straight through. Moody had grudgingly agreed to limit his efforts to throw any pursuers off track, so their course, while not exactly straight, was no more than twice as long as necessary.

Remus had been pleased to see that Harry had dressed warmly for the excursion, including wearing gloves to keep his hands from freezing, and had even brought along some provisions. Harry had smilingly offered Remus a Mars brand candy bar before they had started, and took occasional sips from an insulated thermos of what Remus presumed was hot chocolate as they flew. The older man rather regretted not bringing along a hot drink himself, but he had been more focused on choosing his warmest robes for the journey and hadn't thought of it.

The attack seemed to come out of nowhere, when they were barely half an hour shy of their destination, and it was regrettably effective. Moody had been reminding them so often to be cautious that Tonks actually rolled her eyes and exchanged a speaking glance with Mundungus Fletcher, who was then on Harry's other side, when he shouted their only warning.

"Everyone, careful now! By the trees, there's – " His call was cut off by the need to counter the curse flying at him from a clump of trees below. Mundungus Fletcher was unable to counter in time, and suddenly his body was falling away, plummeting toward the earth.

Remus instinctively dove between their attackers and where Harry ought to be, unaware that Harry had swerved his Firebolt to the side and avoided a curse heading toward him in a jet of green light. Tonks had been forced into a swift roll to dodge another incoming and had lost some altitude, leaving Harry's left side unshielded, but Charlie Weasley's Quidditch reflexes came to their aid as he quickly zipped in to cover their charge.

"Up, Harry, and faster," Remus ordered. "Alastor and Charlie, cover him and _go_!" Then Remus had wheeled around and began shooting stunning spells into the foliage below.

The two Aurors were effective fighters – Kingsley, who was Disillusioned, more so than Tonks, who was a visible target – but it was disconcerting to discover that they couldn't even _see_ their enemies. Remus realized grimly that their attackers had also thought of using Disillusionment as well.

Sturgis Podmore went down just as Mundungus had, felled by a curse aimed at Tonks, his Disillusionment Charm flickering as the wave of green light washed over him. Remus had no idea what had happened to Hestia and no time to worry about it as spells shot back and forth, apparently out of nowhere. When the melee ended, three Death Eaters had flickered back into existence as stunning spells took them out, but Remus was uneasily aware that more of the attackers were either there, in hiding, or –

Adrenaline pumping, Remus pulled up and surveyed the scene with a glance. Tonks was nursing her left side, but she was still on her broom and holding her wand.

"Kingsley, how are you?" he asked. The more senior Auror flickered back into view.

"Fine," he replied calmly.

"Can you – "

"I'll go with you if Tonks can cover things here." She nodded firmly, and Remus and Kingsley turned their brooms and took off without another word.

It was a silent flight, and very different from the earlier part of the journey. Neither man looked around or made any attempt to spot potential threats; no threat to either of them was important. The only objective now was to get to Harry, so they flew straight toward their destination, and they flew full out.

When they arrived at the entrance to the school, Minerva McGonagall was conversing anxiously with Alastor Moody and Charlie Weasley. There was no sign of Harry.

"Harry?" Remus managed, his heart in his throat.

Minerva answered him, frowning. "He's fine, Remus. He's in the Headmaster's office." When he started forward instinctively, she put a restraining hand on his arm, much to his surprise.

"No, Remus, you're to go to Stone House," she told him.

"What?"

"Dumbledore wants you to go to Stone House now. If you're not needed to sort this out, of course," she added, raising a stern, narrow brow at Kingsley in inquiry.

"Tonks is on the scene there, and I can head back to help her if I'm not needed here," the Auror replied in his rich, low voice.

"Everything's fine here, you can go on back." Kingsley simply nodded and left again. Remus remained where he was.

"But - "

Minerva shot him a quelling look. "Alastor and Charlie can fill us in, you're not needed here," she told him firmly.

"Are you sure Harry is - "

The Head of Gryffindor lost her temper. "For heaven's sake, Remus, are ye saying ye dinnae trust Albus Dumbledore? All he's asking ye to do is go to Stone House! _Go_!"

There didn't seem to be anything to say to that. Remus looked helplessly at Moody and Charlie Weasley for a moment. With Minerva glaring at him, Charlie told him kindly, "We didn't have any more problems getting him here, and he _did_ go straight up to the office," so Remus turned and got back on his broom, suppressing a sigh until he was out of earshot. It didn't seem like too much to ask just to _see_ Harry for a minute before being sent away again.


	8. Seventeen

Harry left the letter on his pillow and turned to pick up his Firebolt when Albus Dumbledore appeared from the shadows.

"Ready, Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded and stood quietly while the Headmaster conjured a tiny pair of silver scissors out of mid-air and snipped a small bit of Harry's hair before vanishing them. This he added to a thick, bubbling potion in a small goblet which instantly changed color. In the dim light, it now looked a bit like dark wine.

Harry watched Dumbledore's transformation with interest. When he had used Polyjuice Potion himself, it had felt like he was being turned inside out. Now that he had a chance to watch it, he decided it looked just as uncomfortable as it had felt. What was even more unnerving was being suddenly confronted with a carbon copy of yourself, albeit one wearing Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles and silvery robes. As the Headmaster calmly dealt with these discrepancies, Harry continued to examine him.

"Er, sir, it still looks wrong somehow," he told Professor Dumbledore hesitantly, his mind working furiously to sort out the problem.

"Everything is reversed," Headmaster-Harry informed him calmly in Harry's voice. "I believe, Harry, that you are accustomed to seeing your image reflected in a mirror. You will realize, when you consider it, that you have never really seen yourself as others see you."

"Oh, yeah," Harry mumbled. He hastily handed over the signal stone and the Firebolt, the latter with a sudden pang. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't recall ever having seen the Headmaster on a broom, and he looked at Headmaster-Harry holding his precious Firebolt rather doubtfully.

"While I believe your skill on a broomstick does indeed exceed my own," Headmaster-Harry told him gently, "I also believe I can manage the trip without undue difficulty. I assure you that I shall do my utmost to avoid damaging either your Firebolt or your reputation." Harry flushed, thankful for the dim light.

"Umm, thanks," he said. "I mean, for everything," he added hastily. "Not just – "

"I believe the car is arriving," Headmaster-Harry interrupted firmly, handing him a new signal stone. "I wish you the best of luck on your journey."

Slipping the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father from its hiding place under his mattress, Harry donned it and disappeared from view. He now had a fair amount of experience in moving quietly while so covered, and he was able to make his way silently outside and into the car without too much difficulty. An American couple in Muggle evening dress got into the back seat a short time later, and they were off.

The journey was surprisingly uneventful. The couple chatted about a musical performance of some kind until they reached a stopping point a short time later.

"Sorry about the interrupted evening," the man was saying as they pulled up to a small guard station outside a large gate. "Tony will get you home safely, although rather later than you expected I'm afraid."

"Don't worry about it," the woman told him, her eyes twinkling. "Now that I'm a lady of leisure, I can afford to oversleep a little."

The man laughed, kissed her cheerfully on the cheek, and got out of the car. Before the door closed again, Harry caught a glimpse of him pulling out a badge as he walked toward the gate.

The next hours were as boring as he had been warned they might be. He sat in the back of the car in silence, covered by the Invisibility Cloak and occasionally checking his watch. The woman who remained in the car had a few more options for passing the time than Harry did, as she was able to exchange a few words with the driver or the other man seated next to him in the front of the car from time to time.

As time wore on, Harry found himself being lulled to sleep by the steady, unvaried motion of the car heading north. Carefully arranging the Invisibility Cloak so it would not inadvertently slip off, Harry allowed himself to close his eyes and slip into a light doze. It was very late, after all.

He was roused by the slowing of the car as it turned into a private drive. It was forced to stop altogether shortly after turning in, waiting for an unseen gatekeeper to allow the vehicle to proceed, and Harry sat up and looked around with interest.

There wasn't much to see in the dark as the car wound its way along the curving drive, flanked by oak trees arching protectively over the road. When they emerged from the canopy of trees, Harry caught his first glimpse of his destination. While it was nothing like Hogwarts, it was impressive for a private house, with large expanses of glass that curved in at the corners, and stone cats apparently guarding the roof. Dramatic lighting accented the formal landscaping and strategic parts of the building. Harry grinned to himself as he imagined Uncle Vernon's face if he saw where his despised nephew had been invited to stay.

The pulled up neatly under the portico, and Harry managed to get out and follow the woman inside without incident. Following Dumbledore's instruction, he left the Cloak on even inside the house, waiting as his unknown hostess closed the door behind them.

"You can take the Cloak off now, Harry," she said calmly, and he pulled it off with a sense of relief.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she continued, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Catherine Clare."

Harry grasped her hand politely, pleased to note that her eyes met his without that quick, preliminary glance at his forehead which he found so annoying. "Harry Potter," he replied, feeling rather silly since she obviously knew who he was. "It's very nice to meet you, and thank you for inviting me."

"I'm sorry that the trip here was so tedious," she told him, "but I'm glad you arrived safely." She started walking into the hall, and Harry, who turned automatically to follow her, saw it properly for the first time.

The central hall, which was quite large, ran all the way through to the back of the house. It was tiled in creamy marble, although the four staircases that led to the upper floor all had carpeted runners. In the middle of the space, there was a very large, three-tiered stone fountain which was covered with statues of cats of every kind. The figure of a panther in the same position as the sphinx Harry remembered from the Triwizard maze was alone on the top tier, water sheeting lightly down from the perimeter of the circular perch to fall in the inner basin behind the figures in the second tier. The carvings ranged in size from very large to rather small, but they were all exquisitely detailed, and Harry marveled at the craftsmanship.

"I thought you might like to see your room first, and then perhaps have something to tide you over until breakfast," Miss Clare was saying. "Or lunch," she added, flashing him a quick smile, "depending on when you get to bed."

She was leading him up the first staircase on the left side, and Harry followed obediently behind her, holding his father's Invisibility Cloak and feeling rather underdressed. At the top of the stairs, they continued toward the back of the house, passing what Harry realized was another, much larger hallway running the width of the house at its center. Except where walkways crossed them on the upper level, both hallways rose fully to the height of the roof, where they were capped by arched vaults of glass that were probably much nicer in the day than they were in the middle of the night, Harry reflected. Wondering what happened when the two intersected, he looked up and saw a circular glass dome centered over the fountain below him on the right, realizing that the intersecting halls divided the house neatly into quadrants.

Feeling that he had his bearings a little better now, he prepared to note the landmarks within their current quadrant which would lead him to his room, only to find that Miss Clare was leading him to the very first door on the right off the hallway. He wasn't going to have much difficulty finding it again.

It proved to be a spacious guest room, with its own en suite bath, a couple comfortable looking lounge chairs, and even a desk. The duvet cover for the large bed was an elegant quilt in cheerful colors, bordered in a shade of red which reminded Harry pleasantly of Gryffindor. Surprisingly, there were curtains drawn across the far wall.

"The windows look out into the hall," Miss Clare explained, seeing the direction Harry was looking. "It gives the room access to some natural light, even though it's on the interior."

"Ron's room is next door to yours," she continued. "I'll excuse myself for a few minutes now to get changed. Assuming you're planning to tell him you're here - " her eyes sparkled pleasantly at him " - you can have him show you to the family room when you're ready. I'll have something for you to eat there."

"Thanks," Harry said immediately, setting the Cloak down and hurrying to find Ron.

"Ron," he hissed loudly, shaking his friend awake, "_Ron_!" Ron struggled his way back to consciousness slowly.

"_Harry?_" he asked in disbelief, sitting up rather suddenly. "What are you doing here?" Harry grinned at him.

"I've been invited to stay for the rest of the summer," he told him happily.

"You have? That's great! But I thought you were going to stay at Hogwarts next week? Mum and Dad said I could go on Monday so I'd be there when you were."

"That's what Dumbledore told everyone so I could get here safely. If Voldemort thinks I'm at Hogwarts, he won't be looking for me here," Harry explained.

Ron frowned. "He told everyone in the Order that too," he pointed out. "Even Mum and Dad."

"It's not that he didn't trust them, Ron," Harry assured him quickly. "He didn't even tell Professor Lupin - he thinks he's escorting me to Hogwarts, but it's really Dumbledore using a Polyjuice Potion. I think he was worried because the Dursleys' house was being watched."

"You mean _Dumbledore_ turned into _you_? That must have been weird," his red-headed best friend told him, yawning. "Everyone'll be surprised to see you at breakfast. Unless you want to wake them up now? Hermione's next door, and Ginny and the parents are across the hall."

"That's okay, they'll be here in the morning," Harry said. His stomach growled. "But can you show me where the family room is? I'm really hungry, and Miss Clare said she'd have some food sent there."

Ron obligingly swung his legs out of bed and started feeling for his slippers.

"Sure, mate. I'll come with you." It took Ron only a minute to find his robe and lead Harry back out into the hallway.

"What's it like here?" Harry asked him curiously as they started down another set of stairs leading toward the back of the house.

"Pretty cool," Ron told him. "Catherine Clare is nice, and the house-elves take care of everything, which is great for Mum. There's a pool out back, and we've been swimming a lot. But Ginny and I _still_ aren't allowed in the meetings. She may be a little young, but we're graduating in a year," he complained. Ron opened one of the doors at the foot of the stairs and led him into another room, adding, "But you'll never _believe_ what Mum's been doing," as they walked inside.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Remus was yawning as he put his broom away, wondering if Kate was still up.

"Master Remus, sir," Stade's high pitched voice piped up behind him, and Remus turned around to see the house-elf beaming happily at him, "Miss Catherine asked if you would join her in the family room, sir."

"Yes, of course," Remus replied instantly, and Stade winked out of the hall as Remus started striding toward the family room. The doors were open, and he could hear Ron speaking as he approached.

"So Ginny was just standing there, dripping wet, and absolutely furious."

"What did Fred and George say?" Harry asked, and Remus stopped dead just inside the doorway.

"_Harry?_"

Catherine, Harry, and Ron all looked over at him, and then Harry was out of his chair and coming toward him, smiling at his bewilderment as Harry shook his hand eagerly.

"I've been wondering how things went after I left," Harry said.

"But how did you get here?" Remus asked him. "You were still in Dumbledore's office when I left, and I flew straight here." He looked at Catherine in inquiry, "I thought only the family could Floo or Apparate in?"

Harry grinned, and his expression for a moment was the same mischievous one that Remus had seen on James' face more times than he could remember. The effect was a little disconcerting.

"That wasn't me," Harry explained, heading back to the table where he was part way through a plate of scrambled eggs and muffins. Remus sat down beside him, and a clean place setting appeared in front of him. "I rode here with Miss Clare using my dad's Invisibility Cloak."

"Dumbledore thought there might be an attempt on Harry as he flew to Hogwarts, so he - Dumbledore - used Polyjuice Potion to take his place," Catherine added. "But I take it he got to Hogwarts safely?" Catherine offered him some scrambled eggs, which Remus declined, choosing a strawberry muffin instead.

"Yes, he did, but we were attacked on the way," Remus told her as he buttered his muffin.

"Is everyone all right?" Harry asked.

"I think so, but I can't say for sure," Remus answered, somewhat evasively, thinking of Mundungus, Sturgis, Hestia, and Tonks. "We got separated and I flew on to Hogwarts to check on Harry. Tonks and Kingsley were handling the situation, and Minerva just told me that Dumbledore wanted me to come here."

He was pretty sure Catherine understood that there was more to be said, but he hadn't anticipated the look he received from Ron Weasley. Ron's eyes were frightened, but his lips were pressed firmly together. He seemed to be determined not to ask.

"I do know Charlie's fine," Remus assured him quickly, as he realized what was bothering the youngest Weasley son. "I saw him at Hogwarts before I came here. He and Moody stayed to give their report but there wasn't a scratch on him, I promise."

"Thanks," Ron told him quietly, looking down at his nearly empty plate.

"Can I get you something else?" Catherine asked him gently.

"No, thanks. I'm fine," Ron said quickly. "Ready to turn in, Harry?" Harry pushed his chair back immediately.

"Sure. Is my trunk here yet?"

"I'm afraid not," Catherine told him. "Maybe tomorrow. Is there anything I can get you tonight?"

"No, thanks," he answered, cheerfully slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. "Ron will loan me some pajamas. I'll be fine."

"Just give one of the house-elves a call if you need anything, and have a good night," Catherine said.

Harry nodded his thanks, and said good night to Professor Lupin before he and Ron headed back upstairs.

Remus finished the last bite of his muffin. "I think I'll head upstairs to bed as well."

"I'll walk with you," Catherine said immediately, and they left the family room and crossed the hall to head upstairs. They proceeded in companionable silence until Remus stopped just outside his door.

"Mundungus and Sturgis were knocked off their brooms well above the tree line," he told her quietly. "Tonks took a few bad hexes, but she should be okay. I don't know what happened to Hestia - she was Disillusioned, and I never saw her after we were attacked."

Catherine nodded her comprehension. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

"That's not what I meant," she said. Remus looked at her in silence.

"Remus, the only reason you weren't told was that Dumbledore didn't think that, in an emergency, you would instinctively react to protect _him_ the way you would to protect _Harry_," Catherine told him very firmly. "I agreed with him."

"That - was the reason?"

"The _only_ reason. I wanted to make sure you knew that." Her blue-gray eyes were clear and direct as they met his.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Thank you." Catherine nodded and continued around the corner.

"Kate?" he called, and she stepped back into view. "You were right," he admitted. "There was a point - " he broke off abruptly, not wanting to go into detail. "Anyway, I didn't have any time to think about it, I just reacted. If I had known it was Dumbledore, I might not have done the same thing. I don't know if such a small thing would have betrayed the plan, but I would have hated it if I had been the one to give everything away - and it would have been wrong to take the chance."

Her expression had lightened as he spoke, and when he finished, she smiled at him before disappearing around the corner again. Remus went to bed in a much better frame of mind.

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

Harry settled into life at Stone House easily. His trunk and Hedwig's cage arrived the following day, and he was happily surrounded by people who cared about him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were thrilled to see him at breakfast the day after his arrival. Mr. Weasley pumped his hand enthusiastically several times, while Mrs. Weasley hugged him very hard, and then immediately started loading his plate with food. Hermione had also given him an enthusiastic hug, while Ginny had grinned at him companionably, with no sign of the shyness that he remembered from when they had first met.

Harry found that he was looking forward to his birthday this year. Last year's had been difficult, with the searing anguish of losing Sirius still fresh. Harry still missed his godfather terribly, but the pain seemed to have settled into a duller ache and he found that he was once again capable of laughter. For a time, he had thought he would never laugh again.

He woke on the morning he turned seventeen to find what looked confusingly like a room full of house-elves. When he groped for his glasses, he found that there were only four, all of whom were beaming at him. Much to his astonishment, they immediately starting singing 'Happy Birthday' to him, smiling happily as they sang. When they finished, they all bowed in unison.

"Uh, thanks," Harry said, not really sure what he was supposed to do. Evidently that was acceptable, for they all bowed again and popped out. Harry got dressed with a pleasant sense of anticipation.

As the day wore on, there were more nice surprises. The pancakes at breakfast looked perfectly normal at first, but when buttered, the number '17' appeared in the middle in Gryffindor red. The syrup, when poured, formed the words "Happy Birthday, Harry!" before settling more evenly across the pancakes. Harry had never had maple syrup before, and found it tasted surprisingly good too. At lunch, the food behaved normally, but the drinking glasses had a tendency to toast him on their own, and the serving dishes holding his favorite foods kept scuttling up to his place at the table whenever he set his fork down.

In the middle of the afternoon, Ron suggested going for a quick swim before dinner. Harry had seen the pool outside the back door, but hadn't ventured into it yet. He'd never really been swimming much, unless you counted his experiences with Gillyweed in his fourth year, so he was a little nervous about the idea, not to mention the fact that he didn't even own a swimsuit. But Ron borrowed one of Bill's that they adjusted to fit him, and Harry agreed to give it a try. He was pleased to discover that he didn't really have to swim, he could just sort of frolic around in the cool water under the summer sun, and he decided he could enjoy this.

Hermione and Ginny came down to join them later, and the foursome improvised a game that sort of resembled water volleyball, except that the ball was enchanted to move rather unpredictably and at varying speeds. After a while, the older Weasleys came outside, relaxing on the patio and chatting amongst themselves while house-elves popped in and out offering them trays of food and colorful drinks. Harry, absorbed in the game, didn't notice when Professor Lupin and Catherine Clare joined them, but the large popping noise he heard when a Portkey deposited Neville Longbottom on the lawn near the pool did get his attention.

"Neville?" he asked, allowing the enchanted ball to hit the water in front of him with a splash. Neville's round face was beaming at him from above a colorfully wrapped package that he dropped immediately as he lost his balance and stumbled on his arrival.

"Sorry, Harry," Neville told him, scrambling to pick it up again. "I don't think it broke. Happy Birthday."

Harry climbed out to greet Neville, looking over at the others in the pool and Professor Lupin in unspoken query, but they all simply smiled at him, apparently unsurprised by Neville's sudden arrival. A moment later, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan appeared on the lawn as well. They were very casually dressed in T-shirts and swimsuits, and both of them were bearing gifts as well.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Seamus called cheerily. Dean just waved his present at Harry and grinned, and then more people started popping onto the lawn.

Harry found the whole thing a bit overwhelming, although in a good way. The others got out of the water to help him manage the growing pile of presents people kept pressing upon him, which allowed him to focus on greeting the stream of new arrivals. Food started appearing in larger quantities, arranged on tables around the pool, and music began to play in the background, and suddenly it was a _party_.

He was looking around in bewilderment at what suddenly seemed to be an enormous crowd of people when Hermione laughed and tucked her arm in his.

"There are only seventeen," she told him kindly. "One guest for every year. We made up the guest list and Dumbledore arranged the Portkeys. Everyone goes home at ten, so I suggest you enjoy it while you can."

Grinning back at her, Harry decided to take her advice. He talked and danced and laughed and ate and played in the pool - and generally had a wonderful time. Even though some of the guests, all fellow students, were known to him primarily through "Dumbledore's Army," no one mentioned a word about Voldemort or the latest news or the Dark Arts the entire evening. They all seemed determined to enjoy themselves, and it looked to Harry like they were succeeding.

Shortly after ten o'clock, the four students who remained were trying to gather up Harry's presents and restore some order to the pool area when Professor Lupin tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Would you come with me, Harry? There's one more present for you," he told him quietly. Harry looked at him blankly.

"But you already gave me the - "

"It isn't from me."

Ron stopped struggling with some magical wrapping paper that persisted in trying to wrap itself around his hands to look up and say, "Go on, we can finish up here," so Harry followed Professor Lupin back into the house.

Remus led him into a room he had never been in before and unlocked a corner cabinet to draw out a Pensieve which he set before Harry.

"These are from Sirius," he said simply. Harry stared down at the dancing flashes of silver in the Pensieve and then back up at Professor Lupin.

"You mean, these are - "

"Some of his memories." Harry felt tears springing to his eyes, and his throat didn't seem to be working properly.

Professor Lupin seemed to understand. He slipped an arm around Harry's shoulders, and told him, "I'll teach you how to work it yourself tomorrow, but maybe just one memory tonight?" He looked into the Pensieve with an air of concentration, still holding on to Harry, and then touched it with his wand. The room they were standing in vanished.

Sirius was lounging in a room Harry had never seen before. It wasn't exactly neat, but there was a comfortable disorder about it that seemed to suit Sirius. His godfather looked much younger, dressed - somewhat - in a carelessly knotted robe and reading _The Daily Prophet._ After a short time, he cast it aside with a derisive snort, looking around restlessly.

At that moment, the fireplace flared green and James Potter stepped out of it, grinning irrepressibly. Harry realized with a start that he was now almost as tall as his father, and the thought gave him a queer aching feeling inside.

"Got any coffee?" James asked cheerfully. Sirius looked at his best friend - who in addition to looking freshly showered and shaved was dressed in rather striking dark gray robes - and glared at him.

"At this hour? Go away." James just grinned at him and pushed a pile of robes off a chair so he could flop down in it, kicking a book further down the coffee table and propping his feet up.

"Can't. You've got company coming."

"I do?" Sirius asked him, frowning. "Did I invite those twin charm dealers over and forget about it?"

"Prat," his friend said affectionately. "I did the inviting. You're hosting a meeting of the Marauders this morning. The least you could do is provide a little coffee when Moony and Wormtail arrive."

"Why can't we have it at your place?" Padfoot complained. "Then you could provide the coffee." James looked at him skeptically.

"I could have gotten you up, dressed, and out of here at this hour? Coffee's easier. Come on, wave a wand." Sirius glared at him again, but gave his wand a desultory flip which seemed to produce noises in the background.

"Am I allowed to ask _why_ I'm playing host this early in the morning and not at a nice, respectable hour later in the day? Like noon. Or maybe six-thirty at night."

"Nope. Not 'til they get here." James' grin was back in full force.

Sirius looked at him assessingly. "What are you up to?" he asked, sounding suspicious. James just shook his head and laughed.

A shrill scream issued from the kitchen. Sirius made another indolent gesture with his wand, and a tray bearing a coffee service zoomed in to hover over the table.

"At least move your feet," Sirius groused. His best friend chuckled and sat up, helping himself to coffee once the tray settled down on the table.

When the doorbell rang, Sirius remained seated and opened the door with his wand. A much younger version of Remus Lupin stepped through, looking unsurprised to see the door open without seeing his host. He was dressed neatly and simply, and smiled when he saw his friends.

"Peter can't make it," Remus told them, sitting down with James and Sirius.

James looked irritated for the first time since he'd arrived. "Again? What's going on with him?"

Remus shrugged. "He didn't say. His note just said he'd get in touch with one of us later."

"Peter's Peter," Sirius said. "So what's up?"

The irritation faded from James' face, slowly replaced by his trademark grin. "Guess."

Sirius snorted. "How am I supposed to guess?" he asked. "My brain isn't awake yet."

Remus was studying Harry's father assessingly, and then a look of comprehension came over his face. All he said was, "Congratulations," but he rose to shake James' hand and give him a brief, brotherly hug. James laughed delightedly.

"You always were the smart one," he said still laughing. "You'll be there?"

"Of course," Remus told him, grinning back at him. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"What on earth are you - " Sirius broke off suddenly, looking as if he had been momentarily stunned. "You can't be - " His eyes met those of his best friend with an expression bordering on awe.

"She _accepted _me!" James confirmed, almost chortling. Sirius bounded off the sofa and wrapped James in a fierce bear hug, a grin splitting his face.

"Prongs, you old - " Words seemed to fail him.

"Isn't it wonderful? I can't believe _Lily Evans_ agreed to marry _me_!"

Sirius seemed to be recovering a bit from his initial shock, and was now grinning almost as broadly as James. "I can't believe it either," he retorted. "She's much too good for the likes of you."

"Absolutely," James agreed without hesitation. "I just have to keep her from figuring that out until _after_ the ceremony!" All three of them laughed. "Going to play 'best man' and keep me from screwing this up before we're safely wed?" he asked Sirius.

"Only 'cause it's Lily," Padfoot countered. "If it was anyone less wonderful, I'd think the best man's duty would be to rescue you from a life of monogamy!"

"I think the best man's first duty is to propose a toast to the bride," Remus interjected smoothly, handing Sirius his coffee cup and picking up his own.

"Good point," Sirius agreed, clearing his throat ostentatiously. "To the future Mrs. James Potter," he began, "may our errant friend somehow manage to give her all the happiness she deserves!"

"Hear, hear," Remus and James chimed in. As they drank the toast to his mother, the memory swirled away and Harry found himself again looking down at the Pensieve. He looked up at Remus with everything he couldn't say in his eyes, thankful that his father's friend understood.

Professor Lupin's arm was still around his shoulder, and he gave him a quick one-armed hug. "Happy Birthday, Harry."


	9. Attack

A/N - Thank you very much to my reviewers - it's nice to know that someone is reading - and hopefully enjoying - something you've written.  This chapter marks roughly the half-way point of the story, which ended up as over seventy thousand words in seventeen chapters - so I'm afraid there's a little bit more to go before the grand finale.  In appreciation for your support - and to limit my demands on your patience - I am posting a double update today, which will include the Weasley's acquisition of a house-elf.  I hope you enjoy it, and thank you again for your kind words about _The Stone House Cats._

****

Hermione left to go on vacation with her parents almost immediately after Harry's birthday, planning to return later in the summer.  While Harry missed her, he and Ron enjoyed their summer holiday in the easy-going atmosphere of Stone House.  The only thing to mar Harry's enjoyment was Snape's presence, but as the Potions Master spent most of his time in the lab and seemed as eager to avoid Harry as Harry was to avoid him, this really wasn't much of a problem.  Then Ron had a chance to pay a short visit to his brother Charlie, who had returned to his job in Romania, and Harry found himself left with Ginny in their absence.  

Harry found that he enjoyed Ginny's company very well.  While he had been spending more time in her company over the past year, it was almost invariably with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team or with Ron and Hermione.  Now that they were spending more time alone together, Harry found that Ginny's personality seemed to combine some of the better qualities of his two best friends.  Like Ron, she had a wonderful sense of humor and an appreciation for Quidditch, but she also had Hermione's understanding of people, too.  Harry wondered privately if that was just something girls were better at or whether he and Ron were particularly dense.  Whatever the reasons, he was pleased with their developing friendship.

Ginny was explaining the rules of Tournament to Harry after tea when Catherine Clare returned from a shopping trip.  Her left arm was bandaged all the way from her elbow up over her shoulder, and streaky green smears appeared on the lower part of her robes.

"What happened?" Harry asked.  

"I was attacked," she replied shortly.  "Is Dumbledore around?"

"He left with Mundungus just over an hour ago," Ginny replied immediately.  

Harry thought Catherine looked suddenly weary, but all she said was, "It can wait.  If you see him, I'd appreciate it if you would let him know I'm looking for him."  As she was speaking, Severus Snape and Molly Weasley emerged from the room leading to the potions lab.

The Potions Master was speaking in his normal soft hiss.  "It is _most_ critical at this stage of the - "  He broke off abruptly as he caught sight of Catherine Clare and took in her appearance.

"What happened?"  Snape's carefully modulated voice had taken on an almost menacing quality.

"I was attacked," she told him, an edge in her voice.

"Where?" he demanded.

"Hogsmeade."

"By whom?"

"I don't know," she told him, sounding increasingly irritable.  Snape's eyes narrowed.

"You will place the memory of the attack in a Pensieve for my review," he instructed.  "Then you will - "

"You seem to have me confused with someone to whom you can issue orders," Catherine cut him off coolly.  She hadn't raised her voice, but Harry had the definite impression that her temper was rising.  Snape either missed the signs or chose to disregard them.

"Do not act like a fool," he snapped.  "I am clearly - "

"Overstepping your bounds," she supplied decisively.

"I will not allow you to jeopardize the work of the Order - "  The Head of Slytherin House bit out through gritted teeth.

"There is no evidence that this attack has anything to do with the Order," Miss Clare pointed out, coolly reasonable.  

"While I appreciate that there are many other people who would wish to do you injury - " Snape sounded as though he sympathized with them - "I do think we need to start with the more _likely_ assumption, which is, in this case, that the attack is related to your work for the Order."

"I quite agree that we should start with the most likely assumption," she responded evenly, but with a dangerous glint in her eyes.  "Given the _very_ short length of time I have been with the Order in comparison to my service as a prosecutor and an Auror, it seems most _un_likely that this attack has anything to do with the Order at all."  

Harry saw Remus Lupin following Ginny into the room during the latter part of this speech - which startled him a little as he had been too absorbed to realize that she had slipped out of the room.

Severus Snape seemed to lose his temper at this point.  "The only way to determine this is for you to _give me that memory_, and - "

"Hello, Catherine," Remus interjected the greeting smoothly.  His calm and pleasant voice was a stark contrast to Snape's menacing intonations.  "Have you been back long?"

Catherine stopped glaring at Snape long enough to reply to Professor Lupin.

"Not long," she answered tersely.

"How is the potion work going, Molly?" Remus inquired casually.

"We're in the middle of a very tricky one just now," she told him promptly.

"I feel that I am obliged to point out - " Snape began through gritted teeth.

"That you really need to get back to the laboratory?" Remus suggested pleasantly.  "What a shame.  I do hope you will be able to join us for dinner."  

Whatever Snape had been about to say in reply seemed arrested in his throat as his hard black eyes met Remus Lupin's very clear amber gaze.  The Potions Master hesitated for a moment, then turned abruptly on his heel and strode back toward the laboratory in a swirl of black robes, Molly Weasley promptly closing the door behind them.

Harry then saw Professor Lupin turn his attention to Catherine Clare, who was glaring at him now that the original object of her anger had left the room.

"You seem to have had a trying time of it today," he said lightly.  

"I was _attacked_ when I went into Hogsmeade," she told him, now openly irritated.

"How very annoying for you," he sympathized.  Harry wasn't quite sure how Remus managed it, but he seemed to be steering Miss Clare toward the seating by the fireplace.

"I had to wait almost an _hour_ at St. Mungo's just to be _seen_ by a Healer, and then it took _ages_ for them to send up the right salve."

"Most upsetting," Remus said, depositing the indignant witch on the sofa and seating himself attentively next to her.

"And then Severus tried to tell me what to do!"  Just saying this seemed to set her temper off again.

"It was _very_ wrong of him."

"I don't take orders!" she declared rather fiercely.

"Of course not," Remus agreed warmly.  "No one could expect you to."  Catherine harrumphed a bit, and curled her legs under her on the corner of the sofa.  Remus seemed to be studying her expression.

"You didn't get a painkiller yet, did you, Kate?" he asked gently.

"No," she admitted, sounding a little forlorn.  "I didn't want to risk it alone and away from the house."  Then her jaw set.  "But I positively _refuse_ to go ask for one!"

"Why on earth would you?"  Remus sounded mildly surprised.  "In your own house?  I assumed you'd have Soma fetch it for you."  As Remus spoke her name, the motherly little house-elf popped into view.

"Would you mind fetching a dose of painkiller from the potions cupboard for Miss Clare?" he asked.  "And do you have any more of the little sandwiches we had with tea?  Perhaps some of those as well," he added.  Soma regarded him with approval as she nodded eagerly and disappeared with another faint pop.

"I didn't say I was hungry," Catherine protested a little crossly.

"The sandwiches were for me," Remus told her blandly.  "I rather liked them.  I hope you don't mind?" 

"No, of course not," she said immediately, slightly shamefaced, and seemed to relax a bit.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take this out on you."  Catherine sounded quite contrite.  Harry couldn't see Remus' expression, but his voice when he spoke was warm.

"I didn't think you were mad at me," he assured her.  "Just understandably out of sorts."

A tray appeared on the coffee table.  In addition to the potion vial and a platter of tiny little sandwiches, there was also a pitcher of juice and two iced goblets.  Remus filled both of them from the pitcher while Catherine downed the painkiller and reached absently for a sandwich.

"It doesn't make sense," she told him thoughtfully.  "I didn't recognize either of them.  If it was the typical revenge thing, you'd think I would have been able to identify at least _one_ of them."

"Memory Charm?"

"I don't think so.  I admit that there have been attempts, but you get pretty used to countering them.  Not that I think I was infallible, but - well - that's part of the reason you only work with a partner."

"Altered or concealed?"  

Catherine was shaking her head.  "I hit her pretty cleanly with a Detegendus Charm, although not him," she told him, before taking another bite of her sandwich.  

"It was a witch and a wizard?" Professor Lupin asked, and Harry could hear the new tension in his voice.  Catherine Clare looked at him sharply.

"Yes.  You think that's significant?"

There was a pause.  "I'd just be jumping to conclusions at this point, when we haven't even identified them."

Another pause.  "I suppose that means I'll be getting a Pensieve out after all."  She sounded resigned.

"I think it would help," Remus advised her gently.  "Dumbledore will probably be able to identify them.  If he can't, that would be useful information as well."  He hesitated a moment before continuing.

"I can try to identify them myself if you want me to," he said rather grimly, reaching out and catching hold of her hand to squeeze it briefly, "but I can't say I'm looking forward to having to watch someone attack you."

"Experiencing it wasn't a lot of fun either."  They looked at each other for a moment, then Catherine added, "We don't know when Dumbledore will be back, and Severus is here now."  She took a deep breath and stood up.  "I suppose I may as well get this over with."  Remus rose as well, and the two of them left together through the doors to the central hall.

It took Harry a moment to notice that Ginny had reseated herself on the other side of the table and was waiting patiently to continue explaining the game to him.

"Sorry," he told her quickly.

"That's all right," she said calmly.  "It was very educational."

"What?"

"Watching Professor Lupin."

"You went to get him, didn't you?"  Harry asked her.  "Why?"

Ginny's green eyes were slightly amused.  "Well, you have to admit that he's much better at handling people than Professor Snape," she pointed out.  "I may have only been a second year when Professor Lupin was teaching, but some things are really pretty obvious if you're bothering to look."  Harry sensed there was something he was missing, but Ginny was picking up another one of the Tournament pieces.

"Why don't we go over the movements of the Mooncalf?"

****

Remus carried the Pensieve toward the potions lab alone, thankful that he had been able to persuade Kate to let him take care of this while she took some time to freshen up and change into clean robes before dinner.  Most of the time she handled Severus fairly well, but she was still angry enough about the attack in Hogsmeade to have less tolerance than normal for anyone challenging her - and it was almost inevitable that Severus would do just that.  

Remus entered the potions lab through the rarely used billiards room and found Severus and Molly at work over a medium size cauldron that bubbled just below a full boil.  They were both concentrating very intently, Severus stirring and adjusting the level of flame as Molly watched carefully and occasionally added to the mixture in precisely measured quantities.  Remus was wise enough to wait quietly and unobtrusively near the door until they finished.

Several minutes later, Molly added a final measure of salamander blood, and the potion turned from chartreuse to brilliant deep blue in a flash.  Severus instantly removed the cauldron from the heat as Molly picked up the first vial.  They managed to get a couple dozen doses stoppered and sealed in a remarkably short time.  

Snape relaxed very slightly.  "Quite satisfactory," he declared.  Molly, looking slightly flushed and rather pleased, began to move the vials into the proper space in the cupboard.  Severus looked over and saw Remus.  His eyes fell to the Pensieve Remus was holding.

"I will take care of the rest of the clean up," Severus said casually to Molly Weasley.  "I'll see you at the usual time tomorrow."  Molly looked over and saw Remus, nodding at him before deftly storing the final vials and departing from the room.

Snape continued working in silence, cleaning the cauldron, putting away the equipment, and generally restoring the laboratory to a state of perfect order before washing his hands and looking over again at Remus.  

Remus walked over and set the Pensieve on the table between them.  "Catherine's memory of the attack," he told Severus, keeping his voice neutral.  Snape nodded and picked up his wand, probing the memory lightly before falling silent.  

His examination took rather longer than Remus had expected.  He was just beginning to become concerned when Severus withdrew his wand.  For an instant, the Head of Slytherin looked shaken and rather worried before his usual mask fell back into place.

"The attack on Miss Clare was more - significant - than I understood to be the case when I spoke to her earlier," the Potions Master said slowly.  "Her attackers were Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange."  

Remus concentrated on controlling his reactions.  He would get much more out of Severus if he kept this businesslike.  "Were you able to form any other opinions about the attack?" he inquired, outwardly calm with considerable effort.  

Snape hesitated.  "It is difficult to be definitive on some points, although my knowledge of Bellatrix's character has given me a few ideas."

"Such as?"  

Severus spoke as though very reluctant to do so.  "I do not think the attack was planned, nor was it an attack on a victim chosen at random.  My impression - and it is no more than that - is that Bellatrix encountered Miss Clare by chance and took advantage of an opportunity to eliminate her."

Remus, who did not quite trust himself to speak calmly, said nothing.

"The Lestranges appeared to be quite - _determined_ - in this.  In light of the skill with which Miss Clare defended herself, and the speed with which Ministry Aurors arrived on the scene, I would have expected them to break off the attack and Disapparate much sooner than they did.  Their persistence is somewhat troubling."

This seemed to Remus to be something of an understatement.  He swallowed and managed to find his voice.  "You will inform the Headmaster?"  Snape nodded and handed the Pensieve back to him.

Remus turned to go, but Severus spoke again.

"It occurs to me - "  

Lupin turned to look back.  Snape was regarding him with an odd intensity.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps the members of the Order would benefit from additional work in certain areas."  His mouth twisted oddly.  "I see no reason why students should be the only ones who make regular and consistent efforts to improve their skills - particularly in matters such as combat."  

Remus considered his response carefully.  "A sound plan, however not all the members of the Order are equally skilled in all areas.  It would seem to be most effective if members were grouped in some manner to work with others at a similar level as their own."

"Small groups would seem to be an appropriate way to address these disparities while also minimizing scheduling issues."  The Potions Master paused.  "You would support such a plan if it were proposed?" he asked with an air of indifference.

"Certainly," Remus said at once.  Then, "If you have no objection, I would like to mention it to some other members of the Order if I should see them in advance of the next meeting."  

"As you wish," Severus told him, turning away dismissively.

****

It was a matter of routine for the household to assemble in the lounge before dinner, so Harry and Ginny put the Tournament pieces away at the appropriate time and headed over to join the rest of the company.  

The lounge was a very large room opening off the central hall near the front door, quite different from the family room at the rear of the house.  While the family room was, to Harry's mind, very inviting with its casual decor in recognizable shades of blue, green, and yellow, the lounge was much more glamorous.  There was a lot of heavy silk in colors that were harder for Harry to describe - different shades of brown, from light cream to more medium shades, mixed in with shades of light gray and silver.  The overall effect was very nice, but it wasn't the sort of room Harry would have wanted to walk into wearing muddy Quidditch robes.

It did have a number of different seating areas however - half a dozen comfortable lounge chairs grouped around a round tea table in one area, an arrangement of double loveseats across from each other with easy chairs in between in another, two sectionals flanking the fireplace, and even a chess set and two chairs placed in front of the window.  The family room couldn't seat nearly as many, so Harry assumed that assembling everyone in the lounge was only sensible.

Ginny went to join her mother, Hestia Jones, and Arabella Figg in the loveseat area, where they were talking animatedly.  Arthur and Bill Weasley were chatting with Sturgis Podmore from the comfort of their lounge chairs, and Harry considered joining them before deciding to have a seat on one of the sectionals instead.  He was glad he had done so when Remus came in and took a seat next to him a few minutes later.

"Hello, Harry.  How are you doing?"

"Okay," Harry told him.  "Ginny's trying to teach me to play Tournament, but I don't think I'm going to be very good at it.  The rules are awfully complicated."  Remus smiled kindly at him.

"They probably seem so at first, but they'll become second nature if you play often enough.  Tournament is an interesting game.  Playing with a group of people is fun, of course, but a two person game between highly skilled players can be fascinating - even to watch."  

"That's nice to know, because I don't think I'll be very good at _playing_ it," Harry replied, and Remus laughed.

Catherine Clare had come in, wearing different robes in a dark wine color with looser sleeves to accommodate the bandages, and had stopped to chat with Hestia Jones.

"Is Miss Clare any good at Tournament?" Harry asked on impulse.

"Yes, very," Remus answered absently.

"I didn't know you had played with her," Harry thought he had somehow startled Professor Lupin when he said this, although he wasn't sure why.

"I'd rather you didn't mention that I said so," his father's friend said very quietly.  "Are you looking forward to Ron and Hermione returning next week?" Remus continued in a more normal voice.

"Yeah, I am.  Especially with Charlie coming back with Ron - it'll be great to have more people here for Quidditch practice."

Catherine Clare stopped by and spoke to Remus across the back of the sofa.  "Anything?" she asked quietly.  Lupin's expression grew grave.

"Yes," he said, speaking as quietly as she had, "Your attackers were Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange."  

"Bellatrix who killed Sirius?" Harry blurted out.  Catherine and Remus both looked at him, Catherine in surprise and Remus rather regretfully.  "Sorry," he said immediately.  "I didn't mean to interrupt - "

"It's okay," Catherine said.  She glanced at Remus in inquiry.  "Was it the same person?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it was."  Catherine looked away for a moment, but did not reply.

"He thinks you were a target," Remus told her flatly.  "He's going to suggest we establish a regular routine of combat training."

Catherine's blue-gray eyes were startled, but steady.  One of her eyebrows rose.  "Don't you think we might be overreacting a little?"

"I think it's an excellent idea," Remus said very decisively.  "In fact, I plan to offer to work with some of the team members who haven't had any formal study in a while.  I believe Severus intends to form a group for practice at a more advanced level, and I think it would be very good for you to participate."  Catherine looked at him for a long moment, considering, before she spoke again.

"All right," she said simply, and walked away to speak to Arthur Weasley.  Remus watched her go.

"Am I endangering Miss Clare?" Harry asked seriously.  Remus turned back to regard him gravely.

"How could you be?" he responded lightly.  Harry thought that he seemed to be taking this a little too casually.

"Well, if Voldemort is after her just because I'm here - "

"And who would be responsible for that?" Professor Lupin asked him.  Harry looked at him blankly.  Professor Lupin reached out to clasp Harry's shoulder briefly.

"You are not responsible for Voldemort's actions or those of his followers," he said very firmly.

"I haven't stopped him," Harry pointed out.  "As long as he's out there - "

"He is still responsible for his own actions, Harry.  You are not.  Nor are you responsible for Miss Clare's decisions, or mine, or anyone else's.  You are only responsible for your own - which is quite enough for you to be concerned about."  Remus stood up then, and Harry saw that the rest of the company was rising and making their way out of the room.

He was sitting down to dinner when he realized that Remus had never told him what he wanted to know.


	10. Knoggin

The return of Ron and Hermione and the addition of Charlie Weasley to Stone House was very welcome to Harry.  Not only had he missed his friends, but there was now a much better chance of making up a foursome for informal Quidditch practice.  Bill Weasley had been willing to join them when he was around, but if he wasn't at work or on duty for the Order when Harry, Ron and Ginny happened to be looking for a fourth, he was often out with Fleur.  Charlie, who was now on holiday, was much more available for informal practices.  Although Ron's public performance had improved somewhat during the previous school year, he was still better in practice with Harry and his family members than he was when playing in front of the rest of the school.  Harry hoped that this would change over time, but they did only have one year left at Hogwarts.

After a good practice in the morning and a hearty lunch, Harry had settled down in a cushiony armchair next to Remus in front of the fireplace in the lounge.  He was enjoying a pleasant chat with him while cheerful flames danced in the fireplace.  Even in the midst of summer, Harry found this very soothing, and a rare sense of peace washed over him.

The fireplace flared green, an occurrence which no longer surprised him.  What did surprise him was seeing a very small girl of only two or three step out of the flames.  She was wearing soft pink pajamas with matching fuzzy slippers.  Her large hazel eyes were set in a round face under tousled brown curls.

"Good morning," she said politely to the room in general.  "I've come to visit Aunt Cat," she announced.

Remus responded first, rising smoothly to his feet.  "I'll let her know that you're here."

"Thank you," she replied with touching gravity, and he strode from the room.

Harry hadn't realized that witches and wizards learned to use Floo powder at such a young age.  He had known that it was a normal form of wizard travel, but she seemed awfully young.  He looked over at Ron in unconscious inquiry, but the red-head was staring at the visitor in surprise, his mouth still open.

"Ron," Hermione said very firmly.

"Huh?"

"It's your turn," she said pointedly.

"Oh, yeah.  Right."  He turned back to the chess board.

The door flew open and Miss Clare swept in, Remus immediately behind her.

"Annabel?" she said in a tone of disbelief, stopping just in front of her.

The little girl smiled and raised her arms.  Miss Clare picked her up automatically, responding to the child's hug and settling her on her hip.

"I came to visit you," the little girl announced happily.

"Yes, dear, so I see."  Catherine's voice had an odd tone in it.  She assumed a mock frown.  "To what," she intoned dramatically, "do I owe the pleasure?"

Annabel giggled.  "Daddy says Lempkin's going to have puppies," she informed her aunt happily.

"So she is," Catherine agreed.

Annabel had suddenly become very interested in the top button of her aunt's robes.

"We – ell," she started slowly, "Mommy said there would be a whole _litter_."  She looked up quickly to see how this information was being received.  "And I asked, and a litter means more than one, and – " she stopped and looked at Miss Clare expectantly.

"You thought that there might be an extra puppy available?"  Annabel nodded earnestly.  

"I think we'll need to talk to your parents.  Puppies are definitely a _parent_ decision," Catherine told her firmly.  

"Now," Catherine set her down gently, "have you said 'Hi' to Soma yet?"  Annabel shook her head.  "Well, run along and have some pumpkin juice while I call your father."

Annabel accepted this cheerfully and toddled off toward the door.  She had reached up and turned the knob when she looked back for a moment.

"Oh," the little girl said, stopping suddenly with an arrested expression on her face.  Harry turned to see that Floo powder was pouring itself into the flames.  He glanced at Catherine, who was not holding her wand.  "I didn't know you could do it that way," Annabel remarked with interest.

Catherine froze.  

"It's not considered good form, dear," she told her niece carefully.  "Close the door behind you."

The moment the door shut, Catherine whirled to face the fireplace, where green flames were now crackling merrily.

"_Michael,_" she called forcefully.  There was an edge of panic in her voice Harry had never heard before.

"_Michael Aragon Clare_, you answer me right _now_!"

A man's head popped into the flames.  He had short dark hair and the same round face as Annabel.  He looked very surprised.

"Cat?"

Catherine glared at him.  "I feel like I should be showing you one of those Muggle parenting commercials that say, 'It's nine o'clock, do you know where your children are?'" she informed him sharply.  "Do you know where Annabel is?" she demanded.  Her brother turned and spoke to someone behind him.

"She's _supposed_ to be washing up for breakfast," Michael replied, looking worried.

"I just sent her down to get some pumpkin juice from Soma."

"_What?_"  Michael spoke briefly behind him again and another head popped into the flames.  This one belonged to a dark-haired witch with very keen eyes, now wide with fright.

"She showed up in the fireplace a few minutes ago," Catherine informed them.  The woman looked horrified.  Michael seemed startled, but not nearly as shocked as his wife.

"She has no idea that's she's done anything unusual," Catherine continued.  "She just thought she'd pop over to ask for one of Lempkin's puppies."

"_Puppies!_" Her mother ejaculated.  "You mean she – " she broke off, her voice catching, "for a _puppy_?"

"She didn't know, Maggie," Catherine pointed out.  "Although you might want to think about adding some security to your fireplace," she added thoughtfully.

"_Child_-proofing and _Clare_-proofing are two very different things," Maggie responded acerbically.  She looked sharply at her husband.  "I'm going to finish feeding the baby.  We can talk about this later."  The look on her face just before she disappeared with a pop reminded Harry very strongly of Molly Weasley.

"Oh, dear," Catherine sounded worried.  Her brother's expression was a mixture of concern, resignation and amusement.  

"Remember, Cat, we're _supposed_ to be upset about things like this," he pointed out.  "It's in the job description for parents," he added lightly.  "Maggie isn't mad at you."

Catherine sighed and dropped into the chair Remus had vacated in front of the fire.  She seemed almost to have forgotten that the rest of them were in the room as she spoke earnestly to her brother.

"It's not just – " she broke off, running a hand through her hair.  "She scared me _wandless_, Michael," she confessed miserably.  "With the Floo powder.  I didn't even know I was doing it.  And Annabel _noticed_!"

"Don't fret about it, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Michael responded evenly.  

"Please tell Maggie I'm _awfully_ sorry," Catherine murmured, her tone contrite.

"Maggie will understand."  Michael chuckled slightly.  "She's getting over her surprise at finding out that her daughter is more like her husband's sister than one of her own.  Fortunately," he added blandly, his eyes twinkling, "she happens to be rather fond of me."

Catherine smiled and seemed to relax a bit.

"Better now?" her brother asked.  She nodded.  "Good.  Because I _really_ don't want her Apparating back, so you're going to need to set up a transatlantic Floo and bring her home."

Catherine rose from the chair and straightened her robes.  "I don't know how you manage this, Michael," she informed him.

"You forget, Cat, that I grew up watching Dad coping with _you_," he replied slyly.  "It was excellent training."

"_Me?_"

"I seem to remember you were not much older than Annabel when you introduced us to your friend Booboo," he reminder her.  Harry was fascinated to see a wave of soft rose color sweep Catherine's face.  He had never seen her blush before.

"Well, he was very nice," she replied weakly.

"For a griffin," Michael agreed, grinning.  His sister made a face at him and, still grinning, he disappeared with a pop.

Catherine remained where she was for several moments.  Her color had returned to normal, but she was apparently deep in thought.  Finally, she started decisively for the door, then stopped abruptly and turned back toward the fireplace.

For some reason, Remus, who was watching her with an expression in his amber eyes indecipherable to Harry, seemed to be able to interpret this odd behavior.

"Kate?"

"Hmmm?"

"Would you like me to arrange the transatlantic Floo for you?" he offered gently.  "You can go get Annabel while I take care of it."

"Oh, thank you," Catherine flashed him a distracted smile and hurried out the door.

Harry rose and walked over to where Ron and Hermione were playing chess. 

"Is there something strange about Annabel Flooing here?" he asked quietly.

Ron glanced over to where Remus was speaking quietly into the fireplace and stopped pretending to be concentrating on the chessboard.

"She didn't Floo here, Harry.  She _Apparated_," he explained.

"Well, she might have done both," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"It has to do with the Floo Network," Ron explained.  "Most people travel locally, and they're good for that, as long as your destination is connected, but it's a little different when you're going as far as America.  Then you have to arrange a transatlantic Floo with one of the wizards in Floo Regulation."  Ron seemed to feel that this explained everything.  Harry looked at Hermione rather helplessly.

"It's like a phone call," Hermione interjected.  "It's pretty easy to make a phone call in your own area, but it's a little trickier to call further away, different country codes and so on.  In the Floo Network, you normally set it up with the assigned Floo wizard – sort of as if all international calls have to go through an international operator – and no Floo wizard set up a transatlantic Floo for a child that small.  So that means she must have Apparated," Hermione concluded.

Ron still looked somewhat shaken.  "She must be _really_ powerful," he told Harry.  "Sometimes, wizards with enough talent Apparate as children, but only when they're in danger and never very far."

"I wonder if she did use the Floo Network for part of the trip," Hermione suggested.  "I've been thinking about it, and – "  The door opened again and Hermione abruptly clamped her lips together.

Remus looked up.  "I've booked your return as well," he told Catherine.  "Your window is ten to fifteen minutes after arrival."  She smiled gratefully at him before turning to her niece.

"Ready to go?"

Annabel nodded and looked at the jar of Floo powder on the mantel expectantly.  Her aunt shook her head.  "Not this time, dear, I'd like you to come with me," she said.

Annabel stuck her lower lip out slightly.

"I'm a big girl," she protested, "I can do it all by myself."

"I'm well aware of that," her aunt responded dryly, "but I think your parents may have a few ideas about whether you _ought_ to just now.  Besides," she added blandly, "I was hoping for a nice cuddle from my niece during the trip."

Annabel's incipient pout vanished and she lifted her arms to her aunt, who settled her automatically in her embrace.  Harry noticed with some amusement that Catherine, despite being encumbered by Annabel, was careful to use her hand to add the Floo powder to the flames.  Remus watched the pair of them vanish from the fire with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

****

Harry didn't pay much attention when Knoggin first appeared in the breakfast room.  After all, it was not as though he'd never seen the house-elf around before.  The Weasleys, whom Knoggin seemed to regard as his particular responsibility, were in the same wing of the house as Harry.  He couldn't really hear what the house-elf, looking both shamefaced and excited, was saying to Miss Clare, so he turned his attention to the spirited Quidditch discussion among the younger generation of his favorite family.  

Charlie and Ron seemed to be arguing that the Chudley Cannons would be the victors in their upcoming match against Puddlemere United, while Bill and Ginny insisted that the superior skill of the Puddlemere Chasers would give them the edge.  Hestia Jones was perusing the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_ as she finished her morning coffee.

"Arthur?"  Arthur Weasley was still buried in _The Daily Prophet_, but he lowered it obligingly to blink at his hostess.

"Hmmm?"

"Arthur, I have just been informed of a disgraceful incident which reflects very poorly on the running of my household."  Miss Clare was speaking very deliberately, her voice carrying clearly to the far end of the room.  "I am reliably informed that the house-elf Knoggin has so far forgotten himself as to _spill a drop of water_ on the sleeve of one of your robes."  She looked very stern indeed, intoning these words as if they were portents of a dire event to come.  Harry could see Knoggin waiting expectantly behind her chair, looking strangely excited, as though he were anticipating a great treat.

"Did you happen to notice this shocking transgression?" she inquired very loudly.

Arthur Weasley's mind appeared to still be lost somewhere in _The Daily Prophet_, although he did rise to greet his wife, who had just come in with Professor Snape.  As they were filling their plates and seating themselves, the looming silence reminded him that his hostess was patiently awaiting a response.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized abstractedly, re-seating himself and picking up his paper again.  "No, I can't say – Ooomph!"  Mr. Weasley suddenly expelled a huge whoof of air, dropped his paper in shock, and stared at his eldest son, seated across from him, in amazement.  Harry had the astonishing impression that Bill Weasley had just kicked his father _very_ hard under the table.

"Really, Father," Bill was saying very loudly, staring at his parent intently, "I know how polite you and mother are, but now that Miss Clare has asked you so directly, I don't think it would be rude to admit that you did notice when the house-elf Knoggin _spilled a drop of water_ on one of your robes."

Molly Weasley, about to seat herself next to her husband, gave a sort of choking cry and suddenly set her plate down.  Across the table, Hermione started to open her mouth but Ron, with an expression on his face Harry had never seen before, hissed "_Not one word_" so fiercely that she closed it again immediately.

"Oh, Arthur," Molly Weasley was regarding her husband with tears in her eyes.

"Molly, what – "  Comprehension dawned at last on Arthur Weasley's thin, tired face, which was somehow transformed.  He rose shakily and slipped an arm around his wife before turning to answer Miss Clare.  He was holding himself with newfound dignity, and spoke very clearly and with a strange formality.

"Why, yes," he said rather loudly, "I believe we did notice this."  Behind Miss Clare, Knoggin, who had been looking increasingly anxious, suddenly beamed at Mr. Weasley.

Miss Clare rose portentously, and Harry felt as though he were watching a play he didn't understand.  

"I feared this was so," she said, still very loudly.  "Alas," she sighed heavily, "there is little I can do to make up for this extraordinary disgrace, except to assure you that it will not go unpunished."  She was regarding Knoggin very solemnly.

"Knoggin, you know what this means."  The house-elf hung his head.  "_This means clothes_," she announced loudly.  

"_House-elves!_"  The moment she called, the three other house-elves who had sung "Happy Birthday" to Harry appeared, lined up in a neat row.  All three were attired in matching tea towels much more elaborate than the ones he had seen them wearing before, and Harry concluded that this was the house-elf equivalent of formal dress.  They all looked excited and very pleased.  Catherine surveyed them all very seriously, and then she raised her wand.  She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before whispering what Harry thought might have been "Accio trunk."

"The house-elf Knoggin has so far forgotten himself as to_ spill a drop of water_ on Mr. Weasley's robes," she informed them gravely.  Although they all gasped in apparent horror, none of them seemed really surprised, and Harry felt more than ever as if he were caught up in some bizarre theatrical.  

"You are summoned to bear witness to the punishment for this terrible transgression, for _this means clothes_!"

At that moment, an ancient leather trunk zoomed around the corner into the breakfast room settling itself neatly in front of Miss Clare, and everything changed.  The house-elves gasped again, but very differently from before, and Harry saw tears in Soma's eyes.

Miss Clare touched the trunk with her wand, and what she was doing no longer seemed theatrical.  The trunk sprang open, and a single garment floated toward her.  Slipping her wand into her sleeve, she caught the fabric across her forearms.  It was a long white dress, covered in some sort of soft lace that seemed to change colors as you looked at it.  Apart from the changing colors, it reminded Harry strongly of the pictures he had seen of the christening gowns used by the Muggle royal family.

"Knoggin," she told him quietly, "I give this to you as a symbol of your disgrace."

"Oh, _Miss_," Knoggin breathed, tears leaking freely from his tennis ball eyes.  "_Miss_," he choked.  She smiled kindly at him, then stepped back and turned her face to the Weasleys expectantly.  Arthur was still standing in the same position, his arm encircling his wife.

Knoggin carefully bundled up the long skirt of the garment he had just received so it would not trail on the ground when he walked, and Harry saw that his tea towel had disappeared.  Once this was arranged to his satisfaction, Knoggin marched resolutely over to stand in front of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Sir," he said clearly, "Knoggin is a disgraced house-elf looking for work.  Will Sir accept Knoggin in his service?"

"Will you promise to serve me and mine faithfully if I take you into my service?" Arthur Weasley replied, with great formality.

"Knoggin will, Sir!"  His high-pitched voice was earnest and excited.

"And do you agree to be so bound as a Weasley house-elf?" he continued.

"I does, Sir, Knoggin does!"  As the house-elf spoke, there was a momentary glow around him, as though he were surrounded in sparkles of orange-red light.  The garment he was holding vanished, and Knoggin was once again attired in a tea towel.  This one was red, with the outline of a seven-pointed star in gold surrounding the letter "W" in large gold script.  

"So be it," Arthur finished, and the room was immediately filled with the sounds of cheers and congratulations.  Knoggin was beaming happily, surrounded by the other house-elves who were patting him on the back, examining his new tea-towel, and chattering excitedly.  Arthur Weasley was trying to respond appropriately to the various well-wishers surrounding him, while still holding on to his wife, who had buried her face in his chest, apparently overcome.

"Oh," Hestia Jones sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, "that was just so _beautiful_."

The Weasley offspring were surrounding their parents, all talking excitedly.  Harry noticed that even Snape strode over to offer the Weasleys his congratulations before returning to his seat and resuming his interrupted breakfast.  Catherine Clare tactfully waited for the initial hubbub to subside slightly before quietly slipping in to speak to the older couple.  Remus was watching her, apparently absorbed when he seemed to realize that Harry was looking at him.  

"Come on, Harry," he told him, rising.  "You too, Hermione.  We need to congratulate the Weasleys."  Hermione seemed about to say something, but Remus spoke again, very quietly and very firmly.  "Hermione, you _will_ walk over and congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  I will explain things to you and Harry later."  His tone left no room for argument, and Hermione hesitated slightly, but nodded in acquiescence.

When Harry reached the Weasley couple – it was amazing how even the four Weasley children who were present seemed like many more when they were all talking at once – Molly Weasley had recovered somewhat and was telling her husband, "It's perfect, dear.  Just perfect."  She was looking at Knoggin's new tea-towel as she spoke.  "I never thought we'd have a house-elf of our own."

Arthur pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead.  "Think you'll be able to find something else to do, dear?" he asked huskily.

"Oh, _Arthur_," she responded fondly.  

"Congratulations," Harry told them.  "I think it's wonderful."  In truth, he couldn't think of any family that deserved a house-elf more.  Or one that would be less likely to mistreat one, he thought, stepping aside for Hermione and hoping she wouldn't say anything to hurt their feelings.

"Congratulations," she said simply, much to Harry's relief.  Harry saw her eyes meet Ron's and they seemed to communicate something in that glance that Harry didn't quite understand.  Without thinking, he looked around for Ginny, and saw her coming toward him.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Ginny burbled, her green eyes glowing.  Some part of his brain registered the fact that Ginny was uncommonly pretty when she was happy.  She really ought to look like that all the time, he decided, and then she was hugging him.  It was so brief, it was almost over before he had time to register the way she felt in his arms.  Almost.

He didn't quite catch what Remus said to them, but it made Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beam, and then he was heading back to his seat at the table.  Catherine returned a moment later as all the house-elves vanished, and then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were slipping out of the room, their children following after them.

Miss Clare resumed her seat, and Remus quirked a brow at her.  "I thought they'd like some time alone," she explained.  "They're finishing breakfast upstairs."  Remus smiled at her.

"That was very thoughtful of you," he told her quietly. 

"So," she began lightly, picking up her cup of chocolate and toying with it idly, "how do you think it went?  I was afraid that the 'Alas' was a bit much."

Remus' eyes were warm.  "I think they liked it.  They would have been disappointed if you hadn't made a fuss.  However, there is something else you need to be mindful of in future," he added casually.  Catherine looked at him inquiringly.  

"Don't _ever_ try to give Arthur Weasley another house-elf until _after_ he's finished the morning paper," he explained, and Catherine laughed.  

Severus Snape folded his paper with a sharp snap, and Catherine and Remus both looked over at him.  

"Can I get you anything else, Severus?" Catherine inquired, noting the unfinished breakfast still on his plate.

"Thank you, no," he replied shortly.  "I believe I had better get started in the laboratory early this morning, as it now appears that my assistant is likely to be late."  

Miss Clare appeared to be unaffected by what seemed to Harry to be a rather rude remark.  "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help," was all she said.  Snape nodded briefly and turned away.  Much to Harry's surprise, the Potions Master paused when he reached the doorway and turned to look back.

"It occurs to me," he said very softly, regarding Miss Clare with an indecipherable expression, "that the Weasleys' acquisition of a house-elf may actually improve our overall efficiency in the future by relieving my assistant of certain non-productive tasks."

Catherine widened her eyes slightly.  "Really?" she responded sweetly.  "What a shame that didn't occur to me!"

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched, and he left the room without another word.


	11. Cats

A/N - Concurrently with this chapter, I am publishing a short, one-part sequel to this story called _Public Service_.  It is a little fluffy and may contain spoilers - although probably nothing most readers haven't figured out - but if you wish to read it, I'll leave the timing to your discretion.  All seventeen chapters of _The Stone House Cats_ are largely complete and only need polishing, so I expect to continue posting a new chapter every few days if you're wondering how long it will take to wrap this one up.

****

"Professor?"  Hermione said a few minutes later, buttering her toast as Hestia excused herself.  Miss Clare had gone to return the trunk she used in the ceremony, so Hestia's departure left the three of them alone in the breakfast room.

"Yes?"  He had been gazing absentmindedly into space until Hermione recalled his attention.

"You said you were going to explain," she reminded him.

"Oh, yes.  Well, the ritual you just witnessed is the traditional one used to transfer house-elves between households.  The Office of House-Elf Relocation is of fairly recent creation, and this type of a ceremony is still a much more common way to handle it."

"Was that why she gave him that dress?"  Harry asked.  "And what was all that business about spilling water on Mr. Weasley's robes?"  Hermione took a large bite of toast, looking dissatisfied.

"It may help to think of it as a sort of a code," their former teacher told them.  "Knoggin came to Miss Clare and told her that he had spilled a drop of water on Mr. Weasley's robes.  That was Knoggin's way of telling her that he would like to go live with them.  She then has a few different options.  She could tell him to forget about it, she could punish him herself, or she could do exactly what she did, which was to ask Arthur if he noticed it."

"What did that mean?"  Harry said hurriedly, noticing that Hermione was looking increasingly irritated.

"She was asking Arthur if he wanted Knoggin as his house-elf."  Remus looked rather amused for a moment.  "His saying he noticed the spot meant that he did."

"So she didn't really fire him until she knew he could get another position?" Harry asked, sorting out this new information.

"In a manner of speaking," Remus agreed.  "It would be terrible for Knoggin to be given clothes otherwise.  The clothes he received in the ritual are symbolic of both his value to the Clares and the value of their relationship with the Weasleys."  Their former professor looked rather thoughtful.  "I'm not sure what the significance was of the specific garment she gave him, but the house-elves themselves would know, of course."

"Why didn't she just _say_ what she was doing?"  Hermione evidently couldn't keep quiet any longer.  "And why should she and Mr. Weasley be arranging Knoggin's life for him?  If Knoggin were free, he could just go work for whomever he wanted!  And if house-elves were paid a decent wage – "

"Hermione, you're not _listening_," Remus told her sharply.  "Knoggin _did_ have a say in this.  He _told_ Catherine he wanted to go into service with the Weasleys.  He may not have said it the way you would have, but he isn't you."

"He wouldn't have to if he had the fundamental freedom he deserves, if Miss Clare weren't keeping _slaves_ in this ridiculous, antiquated – "  Harry knew instantly that Hermione had gone too far.

"The only thing Miss Clare is guilty of is being free from the incredible _arrogance_ of assuming that everyone else in the world is exactly like her!"  Professor Lupin's voice was harsher than Harry had ever heard it.  "Why can't you understand that treating others as they _do_ wish to be treated rather than as _you_ wish to be treated is a higher level of courtesy?  You persist in believing that every other creature wants what you want and ignore any evidence to the contrary!"

Hermione flushed painfully, and silence fell at the table as she absorbed the rebuke.  After several moments, she said in a very small voice, "I'm sorry, Professor."

"It's all right, Hermione.  I should apologize myself.  I shouldn't have spoken to you so harshly."  Hermione managed a small smile, tinged with embarrassment.

"I'm not sure I'd have gotten the message if you hadn't," she admitted.

Remus smiled apologetically at her.  "I'm sure you would have in time.  You've got a very good heart, Hermione," he told her.  "And that's a rare gift.  There aren't many in the wizarding world who trouble themselves with the plight of house-elves.  Most wizards _do_ treat them like part of the furniture, and that _is_ wrong.  It's just that – "  Remus broke off.  "I guess the slavery remark rather hit a nerve."  Another suspicion crossed Harry's mind, but he prudently chose not to voice it.

"I really am sorry about that," Hermione said, still rather abashed.

"It may be true in some cases, but it isn't true here,"  Professor Lupin assured her.  "I suspect that Catherine Clare could easily afford to free all the house-elves and pay humans to do their work.  I wouldn't even be surprised to hear that she thought about doing just that.  She _is_ an American, and slavery is still a rather sensitive subject there."

"Do you know – " Hermione hesitated.  "Do you have any idea why she didn't?"

"It would have made them terribly unhappy, and I'm sure she doesn't want to hurt them.  No matter how she tried to explain it, the house-elves themselves would still have seen it as a dreadful disgrace.  The transfer to the Weasleys was something that they understood."  His face softened.  

"I think that's why she asked Knoggin to take special care of the Weasleys in the first place, to give him a chance to see if he liked them," he confided.  "Even with visitors, there just isn't enough work here to keep all the house-elves happy, and it's worse for them when she's alone.  Knoggin is a young, active house-elf, and he deserved a family of his own to care for.  I really don't think that Arthur or Molly are at all likely to mistreat him."

"So Knoggin is happy, the Weasleys are happy, and it isn't really my place to criticize," Hermione concluded, somewhat sardonically.

"I'm not saying the _system_ couldn't be improved.  The treatment of house-elves shouldn't depend entirely on the character and kindness of those they serve.  It's very commendable of you to try to change things," Remus told her.  "Although _not_ by ruining what was a very special moment for Knoggin and the Weasleys."  

The former professor regarded her with sympathy, and some concern.  "I really didn't think that, if you understood the situation, you would have wanted to damage your relationship with the Weasleys over this.  If I was wrong, I owe you an apology."

"I don't think you were wrong, Professor, I just – "  Hermione hesitated.  Then she said simply, "You've given me a lot to think about."

****

Harry thought it wiser not to bring up the subject of Knoggin in front of Hermione, so he waited until he and Ron were alone before mentioning the house-elf.  His opportunity came some days later as they were trudging down from the house to the clearing they had been using for Quidditch practice.

"So how are things going with Knoggin?" he asked.  Ron grinned at him.

"It's great.  Mum went out to The Burrow when Snape was off at that meeting yesterday.  I think she wanted to give him instructions about what she wanted done, but when she got there he had already done it!  She was so happy when she told Dad about the house she was almost crying.  Then she started talking about getting a job when school starts again."

"A job?" Harry repeated.  The thought of Mrs. Weasley working was a strange one.  Not that she hadn't always been busy, but Harry always pictured her being busy at The Burrow.

"Yeah, it was a little weird when I first thought about it, but it kinda makes sense," Ron mused.  "Ginny's in her sixth year already, and Knoggin being there will help a lot and - " Ron hesitated a bit.  "I guess I never thought about her doing anything else.  I mean, she's always been _Mum_, you know?  But she really likes this potion stuff - even with _Snape_.  And if he gives her a recommendation, she could probably get a good job even though she hasn't worked in a long time.  Everyone knows what he's like."

"If they've met him," Harry agreed, leaving unspoken the thought that the additional income would be welcome at The Burrow if Mrs. Weasley was able to get a job.  "I hadn't thought about it, but you're right.  It makes sense."

Ron's ears reddened slightly, and he glanced over at Harry, a little shamefaced.  "I didn't think of it either," he confessed.  "Bill's the one who pointed that stuff out to me."

"You're lucky to have him around," Harry said quietly, mounting his broom.  "Ready?"

Ron wanted to work on Double Eight Loops, which was a little difficult with none of the trees in exactly the right position to simulate the goal posts he was supposed to be protecting.  They found two specimens that would work if they were able to imagine the third, so they tried that for a while and then switched to basic passing work at which they became increasingly lazy as time passed.

They were no longer really practicing, but just flying around on their brooms tossing the Quaffle back and forth when Harry spotted it.

"What's that?" he asked Ron, hovering for a moment.

"What?"

"Over there, by that tree."  There was an odd shadow moving along the tree line that surrounding the clearing which they were using for practice.

"Dunno," Ron answered.  He and Harry exchanged glances.  "Have a look?"  The two of them landed and started walking over toward where Harry thought he had seen something.  

Harry hadn't realized how dark it was getting until he squinted into the shadows.  Then he saw something that made him stop abruptly, reaching out to grab Ron's arm and pull him to a halt as well.

There were two large golden eyes peering at them from under the tree.

Harry started to grope for his wand, then remembered that he had left it on the table in his room when he was changing.  He hadn't expected to have to defend himself in Quidditch practice with Ron!  He cursed his stupidity, hearing echoes of Moody's voice shouting "Constant vigilance!" in his brain, but it was too late to worry about that now.

"Ron, did you bring - " Harry trailed off, wondering if the creature could understand them.

Ron gulped.  "No."

Harry thought for a moment.  "Let's just back away from it slowly," he suggested, and moved one foot tentatively behind him.

An ominous growl issued from the area of the tree, and Harry froze again.

"I don't think it liked that," Ron said, sounding very nervous.

"Well, we have to do something, we can't just stand here all night!"

"Someone would come and look for us, it wouldn't be all night," Ron pointed out.

"If it weren't between us and the house, we might have a chance at making it back," Harry mused aloud.

The growling stopped.  The golden eyes blinked once, and then started circling away and around behind them.

"Do you think it heard you?"

"Let's just try walking up toward the house and see what happens."  They set off for the house, trying to walk very casually.  "At least we've got our brooms," Harry said, wishing he had thought of that before.

"What if it can fly?"

Harry risked a glance back.  He could make out a dark shape stalking along the ground some distance behind them.

"I think it's following us," he told Ron.  Ron looked back too.

"It looks sort of like a cat," he said.

"That thing is a lot bigger than Crookshanks," Harry pointed out grimly.  It looked like it was bigger than either of them, even though it was hard to tell as long as it was prowling along low to the ground.  

"Why don't we pick up the pace a little," Harry suggested very quietly.  Ron nodded, and they started walking a bit faster, still trying to look nonchalant.  Harry looked back again.  It was matching their speed, maintaining the same distance behind them.  Harry had a sinking feeling from its easy, predatory stride that they were not going to be able to outrun it.

"I can see the pool," Ron told him a few moments later, sounding very relieved.

Once they made it to the edge of the pool, the two boys looked at each other and by common consent bolted for the back door.  Just before they reached it, the door swung open.  Harry and Ron entered the hall at a run and the door slammed shut behind them.  

Molly Weasley, looking irritated, observed them come in and quickly crossed to the door through which they had just entered and tried unsuccessfully to re-open it.  When it remained stubbornly shut, she pulled out her wand and said "_Alohomora_" with some irritation.  It had no effect.  

"How did you get the door open?" she demanded, turning to Harry and Ron.  Ron looked puzzled.

"It just opened when we got here," he told her.  "We were trying to get away from that – _thing_ outside."  His mother looked at him very sharply, then strode over to the central area closer to where the halls crossed.

"_Arthur_!  _Alastor_!  Get in here," she called out very loudly before turning back to the boys.

"What did you see outside?" she demanded as people started arriving.  In addition to her husband and the white-haired former Auror who was his friend, Remus Lupin arrived with her second son, Charlie, followed shortly by Professors Snape and McGonagall.  The Head of Gryffindor House seemed rather perturbed.

"What's going on here?" she demanded very tartly.

"The boys could get into the house, but we can't get out," Molly Weasley informed her concisely.  "They said there's something out there."  She looked at her son expectantly while Snape, looking deeply suspicious, tried himself to open the front doors.  He had the same lack of success as Mrs. Weasley.

"It was some sort of – of _cat_ thing," Ron told the assemblage, a little embarrassed.  "It was just really _big_, that's all.  It didn't actually _do _anything except growl at us."

"It stopped growling when we started back to the house," Harry added.  He looked at Lupin, who was frowning, his wand out, and then another sound shattered the silence.  The statue of a large cat at the top of the fountain _growled_ – a deep rumbling so powerful that Harry could feel the stones beneath his feet vibrating in response.

As she growled – oddly, it didn't occur to Harry to wonder how he knew this was a _female_ cat – she rose to a standing position, shaking herself vigorously.  When she did, gray stone rippled away, and she was revealed as a large black panther.  Harry backed instinctively away, unaware that he did so.  She looked rather angry.

Then she _roared_, and this time Harry felt not just the floor, but his very _bones_ vibrating.  All the adults had their wands out now, moving to circle the fountain on which the large cat stood.  But now the other felines around the fountain were awakening as well, shaking themselves into life.  

The large, kingly lion was, not unexpectedly, a golden-sand color, but turned out to have a large black mane.  There were animals he recognized, like the dramatically striped tiger and the tabby housecat, and others he didn't, like the large, shaggy gray cat that somehow looked slightly wolfish or another that reminded him oddly of a weasel.  

Harry wished desperately that he had not left his wand in his room.  He looked instinctively toward the first floor, where Ginny and Hermione, both looking startled, were emerging from the hallway that led to their bedrooms.

"Ginny," he called loudly, but he couldn't make himself heard properly over the din.  Their eyes met.  

"_Wand!_" he mouthed frantically, gesturing with his empty hands.  Ginny nodded in comprehension and immediately wheeled around, pulling Hermione back into the corridor with her.

By now, Kingsley Shaklebolt and Hestia Jones were hurrying to join the circle around the fountain.  Arabella Figg, who was unable to do magic, stopped several feet away.  Harry noticed that the water had stopped flowing.  Silence fell.

Nothing was happening.  The panther, still standing alertly at the top of the fountain, did not move, although her tail swished angrily back and forth.  She seemed to be waiting for something, but Harry had no idea what it could be.

The girls' footsteps rushing back were now unnaturally loud in the silence, and Harry felt a moment of panic as Ginny and Hermione ran to the upper landing and tossed Harry and Ron their wands.  To his great relief, the enormous black cat ignored them, and he felt much better as soon as he caught his wand in his hand.  At least he was no longer defenseless.

"Anyone know what the hell is going on?" Moody growled.  His magical eye was whirling in all directions, although his real eye was fixed on the feline above him.

When something happened just at that moment, it was not what Harry expected.  The large black panther hissed, crouching in anger, but she was facing upward, looking through the glass dome above the central fountain and into the sky – 

– where a green skull and crossbones was forming above the house.  

The Dark Mark.  

The sign of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Hestia Jones whimpered, "_No_!  Oh, no!" in a voice that trembled.

"Steady," Moody told them, his magical eye swiveling frantically.  "I don't see any – _There!_" he shouted, turning abruptly away from the fountain and facing the pool lawn.  "They're coming in on broomsticks!"

"How many?" Remus asked calmly.

"A half-dozen or so," Moody told him.  "You two, get _down_!" he barked at Hermione and Ginny.  Hermione ran for the stairs on the western side of the hall, while Ginny moved in the opposite direction, diving into a roll from which she somehow emerged already running.

Outside, a bolt of green light burst out of the sky, briefly illuminating its source – a Death Eater, robed and masked in black shooting through the sky on a broomstick only feet away from the window.  The spell jetted toward the first floor walkway Ginny and Hermione had just vacated, but it ricocheted off the glass.

"What was that?" Ron asked hoarsely, his freckles vivid against his skin.

Moody shouted, "_Stupefy_," and red light shot from his wand just before another bolt of green light arrowed toward the center of the hall.  Moody's spell seemed to dissipate, the red light washing over the window before being absorbed, although the attackers' spells continued to ricochet.

"'Fraid of that," he announced, unsurprised.  "Protective spells are useful, but this one's a little too well sealed."

Minerva McGonagall had two dark red spots on her cheeks.

"Are ye' saying we cannae fight back?" she demanded, sounding very Scottish.  "That we're trapped in here while they zoom around outside just as they please?"

"Not exactly," Moody chuckled, his magical eye pausing momentarily as it surveyed the roof line.  "One of 'em flew too close to the parapet, and the _nice_ little kitty cat swiped him right off his broom," he informed them.  

The former Auror turned to look back at the panther with his normal eye.  "You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?" he inquired approvingly.  The large cat spared him a glance, but her only answer was a flick of her tail before she turned away, her attention apparently elsewhere.

Severus Snape's voice hissed softly as he inserted himself into the conversation.  "I do not wish to rely on protective spells and a bunch of _cats_ to do my fighting for me."  He spoke as though deeply offended.  The panther ignored him, but Remus Lupin, looking both worried and strangely amused, added his agreement.

"Severus is right," he said firmly, and the large feline atop the fountain turned to regard him gravely.  "We need to find a way to get at least some of us out of the house to fight back.  Otherwise, they've effectively trapped us here."  The panther had stopped swishing her tail and tilted her head attentively as Lupin spoke.  Behind her, a barrage of spells jetted into the large glass windows with increasing fury but no apparent effect.  Then, with a feline shrug, the panther settled herself on her haunches on one side of the uppermost platform, curling her tail neatly around her.

The fountain began to collapse into itself, the top section falling smoothly down until it was only a single step above the middle tier, which lowered itself in turn.  The panther, now looking more like a housecat afflicted by an Engorgement Charm than a predator, waited in place, her eyes firmly fixed on Lupin.

"Well, climb up, boy," Moody barked at him, his magical eye still whirling in all directions.  Minerva McGonagall was the first to move, placing one foot on the base level of the fountain, her wand hand outstretched, but the dust-colored lynx that was perched there rose and hissed a warning.  The professor's mouth opened in shock.

The sleek blue-black feline two levels above her had swiveled her head in the direction of the Transfiguration Professor and was regarding her through slitted eyes.  

"Don't you take that attitude with _me_!" Minerva sputtered.  "Remus, you tell her I get to go!" she ordered, obviously outraged.  

Harry felt a strange bubble of laughter welling inside him, despite the danger they were in.  He looked over at Ginny and saw that she had pressed her lips together very firmly in an effort not to smile.

"Severus, Charlie, Kingsley, and Minerva, I'd like you with me," Lupin said calmly.  Four of the larger cats on the middle tier promptly leapt down into the hall, including the black-maned lion and a vibrantly striped tiger.  The remaining felines re-settled themselves so that four open spaces remained, equi-distant around the circle, and the cats on the lowest level moved aside in front of three of the four spots.  

The dust-colored lynx remained squarely placed in front of Professor McGonagall.

"I think you've offended her," Arabella Figg observed, as the others began to climb up on the fountain.  

"Oh, for heaven's sake," the Transfiguration Professor sputtered, still sounding very Scottish.  The sleek black panther was no longer looking at her – the cat seemed to be deliberately looking away – but the tip of her tail had started to twitch and she was sitting very erectly, with her ears forward.  

"Very _well_," Professor McGonagall said, withdrawing her foot from the fountain and folding both her hands in front of her, one still clutching her wand.  She was looking away from the cat and seemed to be quite put out.  "I – _apologize_," she said, somewhat sarcastically.  The panther sniffed at this, but the lynx did move aside to allow her to clamber up the fountain where the others were already standing in position.  

The moment both her feet had touched the second level, the two upper tiers launched themselves skyward with a jerk, causing her to stumble slightly before she caught her balance.  The black she-cat snorted in huffy satisfaction.

The fountain continued to rise toward the glass ceiling dome, which obligingly opened in time to prevent a collision.  It stopped moving as the second tier slotted into place in the newly-made opening above them.  With the stone fountain now replacing a large portion of the glass dome, the occupants of the hall lost sight of the fighters above.

Harry now appreciated the benefits of having Moody remain with them in the hall, for his magical eye was able to see what was going on when none of the rest of them could, and he provided a little running commentary on the battle taking place outside.  "Good job, boy!  Remus just stunned one of the fliers.  Minerva's making nice use of her – _down!_ – Charlie ducked in time, boy's got good instincts, Arthur.  What the – no, don't do _that_ – ouch!  Snape's going to regret that one."  He continued on in this vein as the fight continued out of reach above them.  

In some ways, it was more than a little annoying, for it was a reminder that he, Harry, was stuck in here when he really wanted to be _doing_ something.  He was already of age, he only had one more year of school left, and he was still being treated like a child.  It was particularly unnerving to be stuck there just listening when the commentary concerned Lupin, for it reminded him of how quickly life could end.  He felt his throat tighten and once again saw the image of Sirius, the expression on his face as he fell through the veil.  

If anything happened to Remus, there would be no one left.

"Do they really need to do that?" Ron was asking in an undertone, his eyes on the tiger prowling the hall only feet from where they were standing.  Harry looked around and saw that the lion and a cheetah had gone upstairs and were pacing back and forth on the first floor landings.  He was uncomfortably aware of how easy it would be for one of the great cats to spring at them from their new positions.

"Do_ you _want to argue with it?" Hermione asked.  "I was in front of the stairs when the lion decided to go up, and frankly, all I did was get out of its way.  Quickly."

"Good point."

When the surprisingly short battle was over, the fountain descended and Harry was able to see for himself how everyone had fared.  Lupin looked somewhat tired, and there were new scorch marks on his robes, but Harry was very relieved to see that he seemed to be basically unhurt, as did Professor McGonagall and Charlie Weasley.  Kingsley Shaklebolt's left arm was hanging limply at his side, but that seemed to be the worst of the injuries.  The front of Snape's robes had been shredded, however apart from some shallow scratches on his arms, he appeared to be otherwise unhurt.  

The Potions Master appeared to be in a _very_ bad mood, glowering fiercely around him as though daring anyone to comment.  The other four fighters were carefully avoiding his eyes, but the cat next to him on the fountain ledge was not so restrained.  It kept pausing from grooming its reddish-brown fur to glare indignantly at the Head of Slytherin.

Above them, a golden light in the shape of a phoenix shot through the Dark Mark in the sky, destroying it.  "Albus!"  Professor McGonagall cried out, obviously relieved.  She looked down and saw the Headmaster was just opening the front door, his wand still in his other hand.

"I should have thought of that myself," the Head of Gryffindor told the Headmaster apologetically, the fountain slowing as it approached the floor of the hall.  Dumbledore was regarding Remus Lupin and the majestic black cat descending together with an unreadable expression in his light eyes.

"Symbolism is very important in magic, you know," he responded.  "Is everyone all right?" he asked, his eyes sweeping the hall.

"Missed a good fight," Moody grunted, hobbling over to him.  

Charlie Weasley spoke briefly to the cat next to him before he stepped down to allow his parents to reassure themselves that he was safe.  Minerva McGonagall addressed herself to the largest black cat in the center of the fountain, thanking it with great formality before she strode over to speak with the Headmaster.  Sturgis Podmore was helping the stately black Auror down from the fountain, but Harry noted that Kingsley paused to pat the calico housecat on the lowest level affectionately.  

Severus Snape stalked down from his position on the middle tier without a word, turning to glower at the rust-colored cat one last time.  When he turned back, he found himself only inches from the black-maned lion which had descended swiftly to meet him.  Snape yelped and stumbled back.

"There's no need to be rude," Mrs. Figg told him shortly.

"I fail to see why – " Snape seemed to be forcing the words out through clenched teeth, but Arabella cut him off.

"Courtesy is very important to cats," she told him firmly.  

Snape eyed the lion in front of him.  It was very large, and an ominous rumbling seemed to be coming from its throat.

"I – thank you," Snape told it, with obvious reluctance and more than a little disdain.  The Potions Master was still glaring at the enormous predator with a sort of angry contempt when the lion sprang forward.  Snape ducked quickly to the floor, and the lion landed neatly in the open space on the middle tier of the fountain.  When the infuriated wizard regained his feet and spun around, wand outstretched, the lion was reclining in place, regarding him with lazy insolence.  

"Severus," Dumbledore said, an obvious warning.  The Potions Master lowered his wand and walked over to join the Headmaster, the heels of his boots clicking angrily on the floor.

Remus Lupin was still standing at the top of the fountain.  The black panther was regarding him expectantly.  Harry noticed that she was between Remus and what was, now that most of the other cats had returned to the fountain, the only remaining path down.

"Arabella?" he asked, "What am I supposed to – ?"

"Just pat her and tell her what a good girl she is," the older woman replied calmly.  Remus looked at her doubtfully.

"You want me to _pat_ – "

"Well, she _is_ still a cat," Arabella Figg pointed out.  "And she _did_ do a very nice job."  The panther's whiskers twitched.  Remus was watching her dubiously.

"Well, don't take all day about it," Arabella prompted impatiently.  "After fighting off a gang of Death Eaters, I'm sure you can manage to pat a cat!"

Remus swallowed visibly before tentatively extending his hand.  When he reached the spot between and behind the panther's ears, she closed her eyes and started to purr very faintly.  Lupin relaxed.  

"You were _very_ helpful just now," he told her approvingly, his hand stroking the blue-black fur rhythmically, "and remarkably clever."  She wriggled in satisfaction and then lowered her head to rub her cheek across his knees.  Remus, bracing himself, managed to keep his balance as the enormous cat twined around his legs, purring, and then nudged him gently toward the edge of the platform.  She seemed to be quite pleased with herself.

When Remus reached the floor, the cheetah sprang neatly back into position and the fountain returned to its original height.  The panther curled herself up on the top platform and then everything was as it was before.  The water began running again, and all the cats froze into gray stone.  

Even frozen in stone, the panther managed to look rather smug.


	12. Developments

Catherine Clare returned on the second day after the attack.  Harry and Ron were in the hall when she and Tonks came in.  Tonks nodded in greeting and headed directly upstairs; Harry had the impression she was going straight to bed, even though it was not yet tea time.  Catherine seemed to be slightly better off, and greeted them pleasantly.

"Good afternoon," she called amiably.  "You both look well.  Anything happen while I was gone?"  

"The cats in the fountain came to life when the Death Eaters attacked," Ron informed her blithely.

"Death Eaters attacked here?" she frowned.  "Is everyone all right?"

"Fine," Harry assured her.  "Some people were a little annoyed about not being able to get out of the house at first, but Remus took care of that when he persuaded the cats to let them out."

"_What?_"  Miss Clare was staring at him in shock.  Harry wasn't sure what he had said that was so surprising.

"I said it was kind of annoying not to be able to get out of the house during the attack, but Remus got the cats to let some of them out.  Him, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Charlie Weasley, and Professors McGonagall and Snape.  The rest of us stayed inside," he added scrupulously, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Catherine Clare sat down rather suddenly on one of the staircases.  

"Are you all right?"  Ron asked, sounding rather worried.

"Fine.  What makes you think that the cats were listening to Remus?"  Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"Well, the other two professors – McGonagall and Snape – said that they wanted to get out to fight the Death Eaters, but nothing happened until Professor Lupin agreed with them," Ron explained.  "Then, that big cat was going to let him onto the top of the fountain, but she wouldn't let the others on until he said they were going with him."  

"_Oh_."  She was still sitting on the staircase, looking as though they had just delivered news so unexpected and overwhelming that her mind was simply unable to process it.

"Miss Clare, I'm sure he didn't mean to do anything wrong," Harry interjected, becoming somewhat worried.

"What?" she asked blankly.  "I mean, no, of course not."  She stood up again suddenly.  "Don't mind me, I – think I must be more tired than I realized.  I'm glad you're both fine.  I'll see you at dinner."  She turned immediately and started swiftly up the stairs.

Ron and Harry stared after her until she disappeared.

"_Weird_," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed absently.  "I just hope we didn't get Remus in trouble."

"And how would you have done that?" Lupin asked from behind them.  He had evidently just come out of the family room.

"Well, uh, Miss Clare and Tonks just got back," Harry informed him, noting the way their former teacher's face brightened at the news.  "But she – Miss Clare – seemed a little upset – "

"Is she all right?" Remus asked, clearly concerned.

"She was fine at first, but she seemed – " Harry was really wishing he had kept his mouth shut " – a little surprised about the cats."

"Cats?" Remus looked at Harry blankly.

"The fountain?" Harry reminded him.  "She asked if anything had happened while she was gone, and we told her about the Death Eaters attacking and the cats letting you out and she just seemed, well, surprised," Harry finished weakly.  "About the cats."  

Remus was still looking at him, now worried as well as puzzled.  

"She went up to her room," Harry suggested in desperation.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus responded absently, heading quickly up the stairs.  

Harry and Ron watched him until he disappeared, then Ron looked at the fountain in the center of the hall and looked back at Harry.

"Let's go somewhere else," Ron suggested.

****

Remus headed down the hallway to Catherine's room, hoping that she wasn't taking a nap and wouldn't mind his stopping by.  He really didn't want to wait until dinner to see her, especially if there was something wrong.  He tapped lightly on the door.

"Catherine?" he asked quietly.

"Come in," she replied, and he opened the door.  Kate was curled up in a plump blue chair in front of the curved wall of glass that had a counterpart in his own room.  

"Hello," he said from the doorway.  "I hope I'm not disturbing you?  Harry and Ron said you were back."

"Yes.  I mean, no.  I mean – "  Remus had never seen her like this.  She looked _flustered_.  She took a deep breath and tried again.  "Yes, I'm back, and no, you're not disturbing me," she told him with a very deliberate attempt at composure.  "What can I do for you?" 

Remus closed the door behind him and advanced into the room.  "I just wanted to see how you were doing."  Something was definitely off.

"Fine," she assured him a little too earnestly.  "I'm fine."  There was a pause.  Remus was looking at her.  "How are you?" she added quickly.

"Very well, thank you," he hesitated.  "You heard about the attack?"

"Yes, I did."  There was an unnatural pause.  "I'm glad that no one was hurt," she told him.

"Kate – "  Remus seated himself in an armchair adjacent to hers.  "Has something happened to upset you?" he asked quietly.  

"No, of course not," she denied quickly, not really meeting his eyes.

"Because you don't seem to be quite yourself at the moment," he persisted.  "Harry thought you were a little upset when he was telling you about the cats."  Kate opened her mouth, but then closed it again immediately, shooting Remus a quick, wary look.  "Have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend me?" she echoed, then laughed nervously.  "Really not a problem."

"But there _is_ a problem?"  This appeared to be another question Kate did not want to answer.  Remus tried another approach.  "Is there anything I can do?"

"Anything you can do?" she repeated inanely.  "I, um, I'm really not sure how to answer that."  Now she was twisting her hands together in her lap.  

Remus didn't know how much longer he could stand this.  Something was clearly bothering her and it was equally apparent that she didn't want to discuss it with him.  The thought that she did not want to confide in him was very painful.  He had thought that she considered him a friend.  He reached out to catch her hands in his own, stilling them.

"Kate, please talk to me," he pleaded, "I don't want to push you, but it's obvious that something is bothering you, and I – " he hesitated, uncertain how to proceed.  "If there's anything I can do to help, I want to do it.  And if I've done anything to cause offense, I would like a chance to apologize and try to make it right.  Our – friendship – is very important to me," he admitted huskily.

"Oh, god," Kate said helplessly.  "Remus, I'm making a horrible mess of things, but it is _not_ your fault.  You haven't done anything wrong at all, and you have nothing to apologize for.  _Please_ don't think like that, I _promise_ I'm not mad at you."  She appeared to be very much in earnest, leaving him bewildered.  His grip on her hands tightened.

"Then what is it?  What's wrong?" 

"I can't – oh, dear," Kate was now looking slightly ill.  "I really can't discuss this with – I mean, right now."  

Her slip of the tongue did not escape him.  "I didn't mean to intrude," Remus responded rather formally, gently releasing her hands.  "Please feel free to call on me if I can be of service."  He rose to leave, hoping he was concealing his feelings as he did so.

Kate sprang up just as he did.  "Remus, you weren't presuming," she insisted, catching hold of his arm.  "It's just – oh, _blast_!" she ejaculated.  "Now I've upset you when you were only being kind and that's the last thing I wanted to do!  I'm really _terribly_ sorry.  If I'd had any sense at all I'd have pretended to be asleep," she finished illogically, looking very upset herself.

Remus usually understood her very well – or at least, he _thought_ he did, he admitted – but her last words confused him.  "Asleep?"

"When you came in, so I wouldn't upset you," she explained, still obviously distressed.  This was so endearingly Kate-like that he smiled involuntarily.

"It's all right," he said soothingly, still smiling slightly.  "I'm not upset, but I wouldn't want you to pretend."  Unmollified, Kate looked very searchingly at him.  "I should let you get some sleep before dinner – _real_ sleep – " he teased, "and then everything will be fine."  

"Not if you're mad at me," she pointed out.

"I'm not mad at you," he assured her.  "I was just afraid that _you_ were mad at_ me_," he added whimsically, and Kate rewarded him with a smile.

"I guess that makes us two of a kind?" she suggested softly.  

****

The Order met the following day.  It was the first meeting since the Death Eater attack earlier in the week, and Harry was rather anxious about it.  No one had said anything yet about moving him to Hogwarts for the rest of the holiday, but he could hardly expect them not to consider it since Voldemort evidently knew where he was.  

Harry hovered uneasily in the hall as the meeting drew to an end, but no one spoke to him as it broke up.  The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall walked right by him, talking in low voices, on their way toward the central hall and the front door.  Miss Clare, Snape, and Moody had crossed the hall together to the ballroom where they'd been holding combat practice, but most of the others just trickled out one by one.  In desperation, he caught a hold of Lupin's robe as he left the card room, frowning and apparently lost in thought.

"Well?" Harry asked.  His former professor looked rather surprised.

"Well what?"

"Do I have to go back early?" he demanded tersely.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I don't think I'm following you very well," Remus apologized, looking rather confused.  Tonks, who was talking to Sturgis Podmore over her shoulder, barreled into him, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Oops!  Sorry!" she said cheerfully, before continuing down the hall.  Lupin accepted her apology with a smile, then pulled Harry out of the way and into the billiards room.  

Perching on the edge of the table, he gave Harry his full attention.  "Can you start from the beginning?"

Harry stared at him.  "Do I have to go back to Hogwarts before the start of term?" he asked, speaking very slowly and clearly.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because Voldemort knows I'm here!" 

Remus frowned.  "Have you had another vision?"

"Not since last year,"  Harry told him, feeling increasingly bewildered.

"Why do you think Voldemort knows you're here?" Lupin persisted.  Harry's jaw dropped.

"Because we were attacked!  Don't you remember?  It was only a couple days ago."  Remus' expression cleared a little, although he still looked worried.

"As far as we know, Voldemort does _not_ know you're here and still thinks you're at Hogwarts.  I'm sorry, Harry, I should have realized you'd assume the attack was directed at you and spoken to you sooner.  I do apologize."

"You mean it wasn't?"

"No."  Remus hesitated, his expression disturbed.  "Our information at this point indicates that they were after Miss Clare."

"_Miss Clare_?  But she wasn't even here - "

"It is her home, however, and they didn't know that she was away at the time."  

"Why would Voldemort send Death Eaters after _her_?" Harry wondered aloud.

Remus straightened and squared his shoulders.  "That's been the subject of some debate," he told Harry dryly, "but we have not reached a conclusion at this point.  However, I can assure you that we are quite confident the attack was not directed at you.  I have not heard any discussions about your returning to Hogwarts early, but you're welcome to discuss it with the Headmaster if you like."

Harry left feeling greatly relieved, but somewhat puzzled.  He was so used to Voldemort coming after him, that the idea that he had other targets seemed slightly bizarre.  He tracked Ron and Hermione down playing chess in the lounge.

"Hey," he greeted them, pulling a chair over so they could talk without being overheard.

Ron was studying the board with great concentration, but Hermione looked up right away.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted him cheerfully, despite the fact that she appeared to be losing.

"Professor Lupin says the Death Eaters were after Catherine Clare and not me," he told them.  Ron, his hand hovering over a bishop, stopped and turned to look at Harry.

"You're _kidding_," he said, rather too loudly.  

"He really said that?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Yeah, he did," Harry confirmed.  He hesitated, and then confessed his private fear.  "Do you think I'm getting a big head?  Because that never even occurred to me."

"I don't think so, Harry," Hermione assured him calmly.  "It didn't occur to me either, but I think it's because Voldemort usually _is_ coming after you.  Not that he hasn't killed other people, of course, but you _do_ seem to be his primary target."

"Thanks," Harry said relieved.  Ron was regarding Hermione with some disapproval.

"Was that supposed to make him feel better?  Telling him that You-Know-Who is after him?"

"It's not like he didn't know before," Hermione retorted, "and I thought you were going to start calling him Voldemort?" 

"Why do you think he's after Catherine Clare?" Harry interjected before the fight really got going.  

"What did Professor Lupin say?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Nothing much.  I don't think they know."

Hermione sat back in her chair, obviously thinking hard.  "Stone House is pretty close to Hogwarts, which is where you are during the school year."

"Yeah," Harry prompted.

"Well, it would be a good base for launching an attack.  It's pretty well defended."

"Wouldn't that mean just the opposite?"  Ron argued.

"Not once you take it over," Hermione disagreed.  "It's one of the first things Grindewald tried, you know."  Harry and Ron both looked at her blankly, and Hermione sighed.  "I read all about it when I found out we were staying here.  Grindewald sent a team of his followers to take Stone House very early in his campaign.  He was going to use it as a base for launching his attacks on the rest of the country, but the attack on Stone House failed.  The book didn't say why, but I'm guessing they were stopped by some of the same defenses that protected us against the Death Eaters, like those cats."

"So you think Voldemort wants to take over Stone House?"  Harry mused.  "But the Lestranges attacked Catherine Clare in Hogsmeade."

"Maybe they thought it would be easier to take Stone House if the head of the house was killed?" Hermione theorized.  "For all we know, it would be."

Harry mulled this over.  "So you think that explains the attacks?"

"It's only a theory, Harry, how would I know?" Hermione pointed out.  "It seems as likely as anything else, but it doesn't have to be the only explanation."

"What other explanations are there?" Harry asked.

"Maybe he's starting a plan of random attacks to increase fear in the wizarding community and she was picked as one of the first victims purely by coincidence?  Maybe he sent them here to steal the secret of the translucent stone?  Maybe he doesn't like the family?  Maybe - "

"All right, Hermione, I got the point," Harry cut her off.  "Ron, do you have any other ideas?"  Ron grinned at him affably.

"Sorry, mate, all my ideas are pretty far out there.  Like that movie you showed me, about that guy who came back in time - "

"_Terminator_," Hermione supplied.

"Yeah, that one.  Maybe Catherine's Sarah, you know, going to do something she hasn't done yet?"

"Have a baby?" Hermione asked, rather skeptically.  Ron laughed.

"I told you everything else is pretty far out there.  I'd bet on Hermione," he concluded.

Much to Harry's astonishment, he thought he saw Hermione blush.


	13. Dumbledore Explains

Harry was pleased to see that whatever blunders he'd made the previous day - and he still couldn't quite figure out what they were - hadn't caused any problems for Remus with their hostess, at least as far as Harry could tell.  She had chatted with him quite normally during dinner, although after dinner that evening she had joined Hestia Jones, Molly Weasley, and Tonks in a card game.  Remus had settled down with Arthur Weasley and Sturgis Podmore to chat in front of the fire while he finished his coffee, but then had retired to the library.  Harry had wandered over near the fire after Remus left, wondering again about Catherine Clare's strange behavior, and caught part of the conversation taking place at the table.

"I had forgotten about that," Hestia exclaimed.  "Lina used to do the same thing when we roomed together."

"Lina?" Catherine Clare inquired.

"Emmeline Vance," Hestia explained, drawing another card.  "We used to call her Lina when we were little."

"Where is she now?" their hostess persisted.  A shadow fell across Hestia's face, and it was Molly Weasley who answered.

"No one really knows," she told her.  "She disappeared at the end of last year.  They found a couple of Death Eaters stunned at her house - Malfoy and Goyle - but they've never found her."

"She was a member of the Order the first time around?" Miss Clare asked very casually.

"Yes, I believe so," Molly confirmed.  "How is your combat training going?" she continued, changing the subject.  "I was horribly out of practice and really embarrassed the first time we met, but Remus manages to make you feel so comfortable about everything that I think I'm really improving."  Molly Weasley darted an inquisitive look at Tonks, but the Metamorphmagus was studying her cards intently and didn't notice.  "I see why everyone thought he was such a good teacher."

"Well, I'm also improving in my sessions with Severus and Moody," Catherine responded dryly, "mostly because I got tired of getting knocked down."  The other players laughed.  "Just when I thought the bruises would fade, we started on multiples."  

Tonks shuddered.  "I _hated_ those," she said, with comically exaggerated loathing as she played her discard.  "Must be some rite of passage thing.  Torture you good and proper before they let you graduate."

Catherine added the card to her hand, removing a discard as she laid her remaining cards out on the table.  Tonks groaned.  "You're a lot harder to beat than Mum!" she protested.  Catherine looked amused.

As Hestia gathered the cards up to shuffle, Harry decided to go look for Ron and Hermione.

****

The conversation Harry had overheard came back to him the following day.  He was watching Ron and Hermione play chess in the lounge after lunch when Snape came to get Catherine Clare for combat practice.  She had been chatting with Lupin on one of the sofas, but she rose immediately and left without complaint, leaving him to resume his reading.  

Ron beat Hermione twice more before she gave up and decided to hunt Ginny up to go for a swim.  

"Game?" Ron offered casually.

"Not just now," Harry replied.  "I've thought of something I want to ask Professor Lupin."  He crossed the room to ask his question while Ron packed up the chess pieces.  Lupin looked up inquiringly as Harry approached.

"I was just wondering what a multiple is," Harry said.  "Something to do with combat practices?"  He wondered if it was something he ought to be doing himself that no one had bothered to tell him about. 

Lupin set his book back down and gestured Harry to take a seat.  "A multiple is just a combat exercise against multiple opponents," he told him.  "Dueling is generally one-on-one, although team dueling is a little different.  Still, team dueling starts out with the same number of people on each side, while a multiple starts out with one side outnumbered.  Other than during the later stages of Auror training, you don't see much of it apart from actual combat.  Unlike dueling, it's not also a competitive sport."

"How do you do it?"  Harry asked, still trying to figure out if he was something he should be doing and wondering how to manage it.  "I mean, how do you set up the exercise?"  

Lupin rose to his feet.  "You can come and watch one if you like," he suggested.  "You too, Ron," he added, prompting Ron to set down the chess set he had finished packing up and head over to join them.  "You'll be able to see well enough from the music room, although you won't be able to hear anything I'm afraid.  We didn't want the sounds disturbing the rest of the household, so they're confined to the ballroom itself." 

He led them out of the lounge into what Harry guessed must be the music room.  It had another of the curved glass walls that seemed to be a feature of Stone House, but this one looked into the ballroom rather than outdoors.  Since the ballroom also had another curved glass wall which did look out on to the lawns, the second wall gave the ballroom symmetry.

It had been emptied of any furniture, which was a good thing because the first thing Harry saw was Kingsley Shaklebolt skidding across the floor into the far wall.  Any furniture in his path would have been smashed to bits.  The Auror came to rest with large purple boils erupting from what seemed to be every inch of his rich dark skin.  Alastor Moody was lying rigidly in another part of the room, his body twitching.  Catherine Clare and Snape were shooting spells at each other so fast that all Harry could make out for a few seconds was a blur of green and blue flashes in the middle of the room.  A moment later, they flew violently apart into the air, slamming into opposite walls before collapsing onto the floor.

"Wow," Ron blurted out, his eyes wide as Catherine Clare and Snape slowly picked themselves up off the floor.  

"Yes," Professor Lupin agreed in a carefully neutral voice.  "They're very good."  Moody and Shaklebolt were getting up now too, and the four seemed to be discussing what had happened as Shaklebolt's boils were deflated.  

"They're going to start again momentarily.  One of them will activate the orb," Lupin explained, gesturing toward a small disk of blue light hovering near the ceiling, "and it will randomly display a color to indicate the target for the next round."

Harry had never seen anything like the exercises he saw that afternoon.  Within the areas of study included in Defense Against the Dark Arts, combat spells had always been of particular interest to him.  He had thought he was becoming fairly adept at them as he approached his last year of school and prepared for his N.E.W.T.'s, but his confidence plummeted as he watched the four combatants in the ballroom.  He recalled Professor McGonagall saying during his career counseling session when he expressed interest in becoming an Auror that they only took the best.  Everyone but Snape had been an Auror at one point, and although each of the combatants had their own style, they were all _very_ good.  

Moody was gifted with not only the magical eye, but a confidence and determination that nothing seemed to faze.  Kingsley Shaklebolt, whom Harry had always thought of as rather good natured, not only deflected what Harry thought were probably some very nasty hexes from Snape with aplomb but also directed his own jinxes with uncanny accuracy.

Harry was not surprised to see that Snape, the only non-Auror in the room, was a vicious fighter with a seemingly endless variety of spells at his disposal and a knack for wriggling out of danger.  Catherine Clare's fighting style did surprise him for some reason, although he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.  She was intensely focused, but he would have expected that.  

He frowned, and watched her coming up out of a diving roll to shoot a spear of blue light at Moody, who was then the target.  When it hit him, the light vined around him to immobilize his wand hand, jerking his wand out of his grasp and flipping it back to her.  

Evidently this was considered a conclusion to the combat, for she immediately tossed it back to him as the vine disappeared, while Kingsley Shaklebolt turned to assist Snape.  Moody had caught him with an odd jinx Harry had never seen before.  It had caused the Potions Master's head to roll around on his neck in a very unnerving manner, and Harry suspected it would be difficult for anyone but Moody to see anything under such circumstances.

It was as Harry was considering this that Professor Lupin asked him, "What are their weaknesses?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked you to identify their weaknesses," Lupin repeated.  "We all have them.  Now that you've had an opportunity to observe them in combat, I'd like to know what you think."

Harry tried to imagine himself in combat against Alastor Moody and his mind boggled at the thought.  He shifted to Kingsley Shaklebolt to consider him next, but the Auror, who was now the target of the other three fighters, chose that moment to efficiently deflect an attack by Catherine Clare while he hit Moody with a perfectly placed Stunning Spell.

"They're all really good," Harry admitted helplessly.  "I don't know what to say."

"If you're having difficulty discerning their weaknesses, you might begin by identifying their strengths," the former teacher suggested.

"What?"

Lupin regarded him very patiently.  "They're usually the same thing.  Just try it."

"Okay," Harry agreed gamely.  "Well, Kingsley Shaklebolt uses his wand very well.  He deflects efficiently and he doesn't waste energy when he's attacking.  He's accurate, and he doesn't waste spells by directing them carelessly.  He hits his targets."

"What does that tell you about him?" Lupin prompted.

Harry stared at him.  "That he's really good," he replied flatly.

"It also tells you that he cares about his energy usage," Lupin explained patiently.  "He's controlling it very carefully; that's his weakness.  Good spells to use on him would be ones that drain - or even overload - magical energy.  There are also spells that affect your wand directly, making it less predictable, and other spells designed to amplify or diminish spell effects.  You want your opponent off-balance, and spells like the ones I've mentioned would have more of an impact on Kingsley than on Severus, for example, who can be easily pushed into wasting his energy and wouldn't care.  Another option would be to create a situation where his careful energy management can't help him," Lupin continued.  "Is this making sense to you?"

"I think so," Harry said slowly.  "I understand it when you explain it, but I don't know if I could figure it out myself."

Lupin smiled.  "Harry, the hard part is to be able to identify an opponent's fighting style, and you've already demonstrated that you can do that.  Try one of the others yourself.  Just talk through it."  Harry nodded and took a deep breath.

"Okay, well, Moody relies on his magical eye to see what's going on, which is a big advantage.  So, I would need to take it away from him, or damage it, or use something against him that the magical eye can't see," he ventured.  Lupin nodded at him encouragingly.

"Um, Miss Clare - " Harry hesitated, as a bolt of blue light from her wand literally knocked Snape to the ground.  She had a definite style, but he couldn't pinpoint what was different about it.  Then it clicked into place.  "Her style is very physical," he said suddenly.  "She's using magic to move people, like taking Moody's wand away.  There are times when she seems to be in a physical fight that involves magic rather than just magical combat!"

"Very good, Harry," Lupin said warmly, smiling at him.  "I wasn't sure you'd be able to pick up on that, particularly since that's the first example you've seen of the American style of fighting."

"There's an American style?"

Lupin nodded.  "It can be, and often is, more physical than what you've seen here.  Part of the American Auror training includes techniques to use magic to enhance physical fighting skill.  It's not uncommon for them to pass off some magical combat as skilled physical combat in front of Muggles without having to Obliviate them, although that's not the type of fighting Catherine is using here."  Harry thought that their former teacher looked slightly amused as he continued as if speaking to himself.  "I'll have to ask her some time whether she's considered to be a physical fighter on the other side of the Atlantic, or only here."

"Sorry?" Harry asked, not sure if he was supposed to respond.  Lupin looked over at him.

"It can be difficult, when an opponent's fighting style is consistent with their culture's, to accurately assess an individual's style in that context.  You see - " Remus broke off as the door from the lounge opened.  "Good afternoon.  Were you looking for me?"

Harry turned to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway.  

"Good afternoon, Remus.  Actually, Catherine asked for a word with me, and I must be leaving soon, I'm afraid."

Remus turned back to look into the ballroom just as Catherine was slammed into another wall.

"I don't think she'll mind if you interrupt," he said with a hint of a smile.

****

Catherine Clare was not at breakfast or lunch, but no one seemed to think this was anything out of the ordinary.  Harry had concluded that she was off on another mission for the Order - not that anyone would say so to him.  The Headmaster came by for tea that day, and sat chatting amiably with Molly Weasley and Sturgis Podmore as though he had nothing better to do to while away the afternoon.

Nothing seemed at all unusual until Harry happened to glance up and catch sight of Dumbledore just as he was darting a quick look at Remus Lupin.  For the tiniest fraction of an instant, Harry thought he saw a flash of concern, but when he looked again Dumbledore was wearing his usual placid expression and Harry wondered if he had imagined it.

After a time, the Headmaster rose to leave and Harry, acting purely on instinct, stood up as well and crossed the room to catch him just as he reached the door.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him with a smile.  "I hope you're enjoying what's left of your holiday?"  The Headmaster's eyes were twinkling at him over his half-moon spectacles as they frequently had in the past.  

Harry had the sudden irrational conviction that he was concealing something.

"Very much, thank you," he said, smiling in return.  If the Headmaster was going to act as if nothing were wrong, Harry would do the same.  For the moment.  

"It looked like you were about to leave," Harry continued, still smiling pleasantly.  "I thought that if you were, I would walk with you."  The Headmaster looked at him rather keenly for a moment, before nodding and continuing out the door.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked when they were safely out of earshot with the door to the lounge closed behind them.

"I wanted to know what's going on," Harry said flatly.

"What makes you think something is 'going on' that concerns you?"  The Headmaster no longer looked placid, but there was very little to be read from his expression.

"Actually, I rather thought it concerned Remus more than me," Harry parried, and something flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.  "I don't want to bumble around making things worse because no one took the time to fill me in and the information I did have led me to the wrong conclusions.  So I'm asking you what's going on."  There was a lengthy silence.  Dumbledore studied Harry very gravely.

"Very well," he said at last.  Then he turned and went into the library, carefully closing the door and taking a seat across from Harry.  Harry tried to wait patiently for Dumbledore to begin.  

When the Headmaster did start to speak, his words were totally unexpected.

"In order to explain to you what has happened, I need to go back to where it all began, which is, I suppose, when you and Miss Granger helped your godfather to escape on Buckbeak at the end of your third year."  Harry blinked.

"You see, Sirius actually ended up in America, where he made the acquaintance of Miss Clare."  
  


"America!"  Now that Dumbledore was actually filling him in, Harry hadn't meant to interrupt and immediately clamped his lips together.  He was just surprised, having always thought that his godfather had gone somewhere warm and, well, tropical.  The Headmaster seemed to know what he was thinking.

"America is a large country, Harry," he pointed out with a hint of gentle amusement.  "It has a number of different climates and, er, living environments.  But if I may continue, Sirius stayed with Miss Clare in America until he returned home during your fourth year.  I don't know if you are aware of her background as a prosecutor?" 

Harry nodded grimly.  His experience with prosecutions by the Ministry had not been a good one.  

"Again, Harry, the American system of justice, even in the wizarding community, is rather different from our own.  Miss Clare has a very strong sense of fair play.  I think –" the Headmaster paused for a moment, looking pensive, "I think that the fact that Sirius had been condemned to Azkaban without a trial appalled her.  She verified his account, of course, very discreetly, but that took time, and in the interim, she was taking an extraordinary risk in allowing him to stay with her.  A rather remarkable woman."  Dumbledore fell silent then, lost in thought for some time.  

Harry cleared his throat slightly, and the Headmaster looked up again and continued as though nothing had happened.  "The Pensieve was her idea, I understand.  Sirius was still suffering certain – aftereffects – of his time in Azkaban, and she thought that using the Pensieve might help him deal with the memories.  I don't think it occurred to him to use it to share his memories of your parents with you until much later, shortly before he left.  I believe he expected to return for the Pensieve himself at some point, but he did tell her to deliver it to Remus if anything happened to him."

"Unfortunately, with everything else that was going on, Sirius never told Remus or me about Catherine.  She had no way of knowing that your godfather was killed at the Ministry."  As Dumbledore said this, a giant hand squeezed Harry's chest, and he had to force himself to concentrate on the Headmaster's next words.  "Sirius had contacted her not long before his death, and he was never a regular correspondent.  It was several months before she began to become concerned."

"When she did, she tried to contact Remus as Sirius had requested, but he was – unreachable – while he was on a certain mission for the Order.  She eventually got in touch with me.  I recruited her into the Order while we were waiting for Remus to return and, as you know, she also agreed to allow the Order to use her family home as the new headquarters."

"Remus went to work sorting through the Pensieve.  Most of the memories it originally contained were not included in the Pensieve Remus gave you, Harry."  Dumbledore surveyed Harry over the tops of his half-moon glasses very seriously.  

Some part of Harry wanted to protest, but before he spoke, he willed himself to stop and think this through.  Sirius had entrusted his memories to his closest living friend and relied upon him to do the right thing.  Harry silently vowed to respect that decision, although something wrenched painfully inside as he did.

"I understand," Harry said quietly.  "Please go on."

He felt a small glow of warmth when Dumbledore's face lightened as he said this.  Dumbledore was regarding him with approval.  With a small mental wince, Harry realized that it was a long time since the Headmaster had looked at him with that expression on his face.

"The majority of the memories in the Pensieve were of his time in Azkaban, and I understand that they were – unpleasant – at best.  Sirius had used the Pensieve to purge himself of some of his worst memories, and the task of sorting through them was an extremely difficult one.  Remus persisted in doing all of it himself, despite the pain it was causing him, until Catherine persuaded him to allow her to share some of the burden."  Dumbledore regarded Harry very intently as he continued.  "Catherine only dealt with some of the Azkaban memories, Harry.  You and Remus are the only ones who have seen those contained in the Pensieve given to you."  Harry nodded his understanding.

"I'm glad she was able to help him," he said quietly.  "I don't think Sirius intended to make Remus suffer."

The Headmaster sighed.  "I'm sure he didn't, Harry.  At any rate, the result was that _Catherine_ was the only one who had seen certain memories that Sirius had of his time in Azkaban.  She realized that Sirius had unwittingly left us critical information about the identity of a spy within the Order."

"A spy in the _Order_?"  Harry echoed in surprise.  "Do you mean that Voldemort has a spy within the Order itself?  How could – "  Harry broke off abruptly.  Dumbledore looked very tired, and Harry was aware of the lines on his face and the great weight of years the Headmaster carried.

"Unfortunately, Harry," he told him quietly, "I am no more infallible than Voldemort, as you have already discovered.  You are aware that we have a spy among the Death Eaters – an unpleasant necessity of war – and it is not surprising that Voldemort should seek a similar advantage.  I thought this matter had been taken care of - Voldemort believes he has a double-agent within the Order - but apparently that was not enough to prevent him from taking additional steps.  I only became aware a matter of months ago that Voldemort had again succeeded in placing - or perhaps I should say reactivating - a real spy within the ranks of the Order."  

Harry caught a glimpse of the pain in his eyes before Dumbledore turned his head away for a moment, staring out the window.  

"You would be quite correct in thinking that I should have been better prepared for this, particularly in light of the use Voldemort made of Peter Pettigrew in the last war."  Harry found himself in the bizarre position of feeling he should be offering comfort to the man many regarded as the greatest wizard alive, and he wasn't sure how to do it.  

"Professor," he began awkwardly, "we've probably been a bit, well, spoiled, because you always seem to know everything, but that's not really fair to you.  You told me once that it is our choices that matter," Harry reminded him tentatively, "so I don't see how you can blame yourself for things that happen because of something you didn't even know."

Dumbledore swallowed hard.  "Thank you, Harry," he murmured huskily, then cleared his throat in a determined manner.

"Continuing with the matter at hand, Catherine was able to use the information she obtained helping Remus with the Pensieve to identify the spy."

"Sir, am I allowed to ask – ?"

"It was Emmeline Vance," Dumbledore told him wearily.  "I must ask that you keep that information to yourself, however."

Harry recalled the stately woman he had first met when she was among the party escorting him to Grimmauld Place.  "So, then, everything's fine, right?  Didn't she disappear months ago?"  He had no idea how callous that sounded until he saw the Headmaster's involuntary flinch.  "Sorry," he apologized quickly.  "I didn't mean that the way it came out."  The Headmaster put an end to Harry's penitence with a gesture.

"The Ministry formed the conclusion, as you may recall from the coverage in _The Daily Prophet_, that Emmeline Vance was either kidnapped or killed by Death Eaters last year, although her body was never recovered.  In truth, she has been in hiding since that time."

Dumbledore's mouth twisted slightly.  "Voldemort is not kind to those who fail him.  I believe Emmeline was the woman you saw in your vision the afternoon of the first Quidditch match of your sixth year.  The fact that I served as Secret-Keeper of the Order limited her usefulness as a spy, and Voldemort's patience was wearing thin.  The night she disappeared, Lucius Malfoy, who recruited her into the Death Eaters, was ordered to bring her before their master.  He would have tortured her, extracted what he could from her, and killed her.  I don't know how much information Voldemort could have obtained in the process, but possibly enough to put the Order at risk."

Harry tried to process this.  "So, does that mean that you've been hiding her from him?" he asked slowly.  "Even though she was a traitor?"

"I arranged for her to go into hiding, and yes, I did it even though she was a traitor."  Dumbledore told him.

"But – " Harry paused as a rather obvious discrepancy with the explanation struck him, "Remus said Catherine didn't give him the Pensieve until this spring, and Emmeline Vance disappeared last fall.  That's not possible!"  Harry's tone was accusatory.

"Catherine used a Time-Turner to go back and save Emmeline," Dumbledore explained, an odd note of pain in his voice.  "She left last night, carrying a letter I wrote to myself."

There was a pause.  "Isn't that, well, dangerous?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Very," the Headmaster told him bluntly.  "Catherine may have a slightly better chance of success than anyone else in the Order.  She wasn't even in the country last fall, and none of you knew her then.  Nevertheless, it was still an incredible risk.  She has to cope with all the dangers inherent in time travel, in addition to having to protect Emmeline from the Death Eaters."

"When will she be back?"

Dumbledore hesitated, "If she comes back, it won't be any sooner than tonight.  She would not want to encounter herself before she left."

"_If – _" Harry whispered, suddenly cold.

Harry had seen glimpses of the Headmaster's pain at times, but Dumbledore's grief was now apparent on his face.  "We don't know what happened to her, Harry.  Another member of the Order went with her that night last fall but – " he paused and steadied his voice, "Emmeline had some difficulty accepting the situation, and it took them longer than expected to convince her that she had to leave.  All three of them were still there when the Death Eaters arrived – four of them.  Catherine stayed and fought them alone to give the others time to get away.  When Kingsley and Tonks arrived, they found Lucius Malfoy and Georgeson Goyle, both stunned, but there was no sign of anyone else."

"Remus – "

"Doesn't know."  The Headmaster's tone was flat.  "I won't tell him unless it becomes – necessary.  There's no point in putting him through that while there's still a chance that she'll return safely.  But – " here Dumbledore hesitated again "I think he may need your support if Catherine does not return."

"I understand, sir," Harry assured him, his throat tight.  

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, and Harry knew that the interview was over.


	14. Michael

The next day, Harry felt very strange.  He had never been in this position before.  He was not unaccustomed to keeping secrets, of course, but this just felt – well – different.  Remus was very important to him, more so since he had become the last of his father's real friends.  He didn't think Pettigrew counted here, even if he had been a Marauder and was still alive.  

Although Harry had withheld information from Remus before, it was never quite like this.  For one thing, this was really about Remus, and it seemed a bit as though he were being disloyal, or betraying him somehow not to tell him.  Harry had to go on acting as though everything were normal, when he knew that it wasn't, watching for the time when Remus would have to learn the truth, and all the while dreading the pain this would bring him.  Remus was such a good man, and he had suffered too much already.

Harry thought he was doing a pretty good job acting normally, right up until the moment Ginny turned to him and said, very directly, "There's something going on, isn't there?"

Harry had been watching Remus, who was chatting easily with Bill Weasley in the lounge over after-dinner coffee, and didn't know how to respond.

"Wha – " he sputtered, "what makes you say that?"

Ginny's brown eyes were amused, "Really, Harry, I'm not stupid."  Harry had no idea how to respond to that, but she seemed to take pity on him.  "It's all right, I'm not going to push you to tell me about it.  Just let me know if there's anything I can do."  Then she patted his arm and walked away, leaving Harry gaping at her.

****

It was on the third day that Dumbledore told Remus.  The Headmaster had taken to dropping by around tea time - ostensibly to check on Harry, who knew otherwise.  

They were relaxing in the lounge when Harry saw Remus stop by the Headmaster's chair, softly voicing what was evidently an inquiry.  Professor Dumbledore set his teacup down carefully on the table next to him before he replied.  Harry couldn't hear what he said, but it brought a puzzled frown to Lupin's countenance.  Then the Headmaster rose and ushered the younger man out of the room, his grave eyes meeting Harry's behind Lupin's back as they left.

Neither of them had returned to the lounge when it was time to go in to supper.  Mrs. Weasley led everyone else into the dining room, and Harry ate his way mechanically through the courses, wondering where the Headmaster had taken Remus to talk and whether he was allowed to notice their absence.  As no one else commented on it, neither did he.

After dinner, Harry joined the group settling down for the evening in the family room, pretending to read a book in the corner chair as he waited anxiously for Remus or Dumbledore to return.  Bill had left immediately after the meal - Harry guessed he had a date with Fleur - and Hermione was playing Tournament with the three remaining Weasley offspring at the table by the window.  Mrs. Weasley had excused herself to work on something in the potions lab, while her husband chatting with Alastor Moody by the fire.  Sturgis Podmore was talking with Hestia Jones as her hands wandered softly over the keys of the parlor piano, and the light music dulled the sound of the others in the room enough for Harry to sink into a worried stupor.

The evening wore on with glacial speed.  No one bothered Harry, who turned a page whenever anyone looked as though they might speak to him, but neither the Headmaster nor Professor Lupin returned.  Finally Mr. Weasley and Moody decided to turn in for the night, and Harry rose thankfully as soon as they did and slipped out behind them.

The objects of his search were not in the lounge or the library, but Harry did catch sight of the house-elf Stade in the latter room.  He was slowly adding a second cup that had been sitting on the low table in front of the fire to a small silver tray hovering beside him, and he looked rather grim.

"Excuse me," Harry began politely.  "I was wondering if you know where I can find Professor Lupin?"

In Harry's admittedly limited experience, most of the house-elves he had known - including Stade - usually looked pleased to be of service, even a service as small as answering a question, but there was no evidence of this trait when Stade replied immediately, "Master Remus is upstairs, Sir."

"In his room?  Thanks."  Harry turned to go immediately.

"Master Remus is _upstairs_, Sir," Stade repeated.  Harry frowned.

"Okay," he answered slowly, watching the house-elf carefully.  "I'll go upstairs and see if I can find him."  Stade nodded sadly and disappeared with his tray.

Puzzled, Harry headed upstairs and down the hall toward Professor Lupin's room.  He had never been in it, but he knew it was the corner room at the end of the hall, so he followed the hall until he was directly in front of a single door and knocked lightly.

"Professor Lupin?" he called softly after a moment.  Receiving no answer, he knocked more loudly.  Still not receiving a response, he hesitated a moment before trying the door.  It was not locked, so Harry went in.

"Professor Lupin?" he called again, pulling out his wand and muttering "_Lumos_" under his breath.  Harry blinked slightly, seeing the enormous curved wall of glass that marked the corners of Stone House, dark now that night had fallen.  The room was lovely and spacious - much larger than Harry's - and it had its own fireplace.  

It was also obviously empty.

Harry groaned inwardly.  Stade had said quite clearly that Remus was upstairs, where could he be if he wasn't in his room?  Harry tried running through the layout of the house in his mind.  Remus' room had to be over parts of the writing room and Catherine Clare's study.  Tonks, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones were in this wing, but Tonks and Kingsley weren't here tonight, and Sturgis and Hestia were still downstairs.  Actually, almost everyone who was here tonight was still downstairs, with the exception of Mr. Weasley and Moody, who were both in the opposite corner of the building near Harry's room.

As Harry was trying to puzzle this out, he realized that he was staring across the room at another door.  This one was actually a double door, on the wall set at right angles to the single door he had entered.  Annoyed with himself, he strode across the room to try it.  It too was unlocked, and he emerged in another hall.  Glancing to the left, he realized that it was actually a continuation of the same hall he had walked down before, it merely came around the corner of Remus' room to where he was standing.  

This corner of the hall had some cozy looking reading chairs and a small sofa, but what caught Harry's attention was the walkway over the end of the ground floor hall.  It culminated in another set of double doors, one of which was partially open.  Before he even reached it, he knew that Remus was there.

For some reason, he didn't knock or call out this time.  He just slipped quietly into the room.  Professor Lupin was standing further in, motionless in the darkness.  He didn't speak, or make any noise, but Harry had the oddest feeling that it was requiring a Herculean effort on his part simply to keep breathing.  Frightened, Harry muttered "_Lumos_" again, his grip tightening on his wand.

"Harry?"  Remus had turned and seen him.  Harry was shocked by how fragile the former professor suddenly looked.  He was used to thinking of Professor Lupin as consistently calm and capable.  Harry didn't know how to reconcile that image with the one before him.

"Harry, whatever it is - can it wait?" His voice broke and he swallowed before he continued.  "I don't think I can - "

Harry slipped his wand up his sleeve and hurried to clasp Remus' arm, leading him unresisting to one of the chaise lounges in front of the window.  "I don't need anything," Harry told him, his voice unconsciously soothing.  "I just came to see if there was anything I could do for you."  Remus sat down obediently on the chaise where Harry had placed him.

"Do for me?" he echoed blankly.  "There's nothing - "

Harry was sitting beside him, one arm firmly around Professor Lupin and the other still clasping one of his arms.  He hesitated briefly, then said, "Dumbledore told me that Catherine Clare was overdue."  He had tried to speak as gently as he could, but he could see that his words tore through Remus with excruciating force.

"_Kate_ - I never - he said she didn't remember - I didn't know - "  Incoherent, the stricken man couldn't continue, and started to sob.  

They were not the tears of a child crying out its sadness, but the choking agony of a man suffering an unendurable pain, an anguish beyond words.  Harry, his own heart aching for Remus' grief, simply held on to him.  There was nothing else he could do.  It seemed as though there was no end to Lupin's pain, but eventually he seemed to have exhausted his supply of tears.  It was as if he stopped crying only because he lacked the strength to continue.  

Still holding on to him, Harry fished a rather crumpled handkerchief out of his pocket with one hand and offered it to Remus, who wiped his eyes and made an effort to sit up straighter.

"I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized quietly.  "You shouldn't have had to witness that."  Harry shook his head.

"I'm glad I could be here," Harry told Remus firmly.  "I only wish there was something I could do to help."  

His father's friend closed his eyes in momentary anguish before he managed to respond, "Thank you."  Already, grief had edged deep grooves around his eyes, which were swollen and oddly bruised.  Professor Lupin also looked exhausted, as if he not slept in weeks even though Harry knew that he had.

"Do you think you can get some sleep?"  Harry asked him, still speaking very gently.  "Or would you like me to get you a potion?"

"No potions," Remus told him faintly.  "I don't want to - "  He was looking around the room in bewildered injury, and Harry instinctively followed his gaze.  He had thought Remus' room was quite spacious, but this was much larger still, and Harry realized that it had to be Catherine's.

"Why don't you just lie down here and see if you fall asleep?" Harry suggested, rising and looking around for something to serve as a cover.  Remus, looking oddly lost, swung his legs up docilely on the chaise and lay back.  Harry spotted an extra blanket folded up at the end of Catherine's bed and he quickly retrieved it, snatching up a pillow as an afterthought.

He spread the blanket over Remus carefully, trying not to make it obvious that he was tucking the older man in like a child.  Remus was looking at him rather anxiously.

"Harry, please don't - "

"I won't say anything to anyone," Harry vowed.  "Just try and get some sleep," he added, handing over the pillow.  Remus accepted it and was settling it under his head when fresh tears sprang to his eyes and he made an inarticulate noise.  

With a wave of horror at his own insensitivity, Harry realized that he had inadvertently given Remus Catherine's pillow.  The older man must have detected some faint trace of her scent on it.  

Much to his amazement, Remus only turned the pillow sideways and rolled over to bury his face in it, wrapping both arms tightly around the softness.  Then he was asleep as suddenly as if he had been hit by a Stunning Spell.

Harry slowly let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding since he realized what he'd done.  He stood silently for a moment, watching Remus sleep, before he extinguished the lights.  He made sure the doors to both rooms were closed before he retired to his own.

****

Remus came down for breakfast the next morning looking not too different from his usual self, if rather more tired and with a somewhat bruised look about his eyes.  He smiled pleasantly at everyone, chatting normally with Arthur Weasley about the latest Ministry blunder reported in _The Daily Prophet._  He answered Hermione's questions about a point that concerned her in a practice N.E.W.T. she had been working on, and he drank his morning coffee quite normally.

Watching him today, Harry would never have imagined he was the same man who had sobbed himself into an exhausted sleep the night before.  Harry did notice that Remus did no more than toy with his chocolate chip muffin, but Harry doubted he would have picked up on this if he hadn't seen the state Professor Lupin had been in only a matter of hours before.  Harry felt a rush of admiration for his former teacher, aware for the first time of what incredible courage and strength it must take to present himself as he did, day after day, without regard to what he was feeling.  Harry himself had not managed to conceal a smaller concern for even a day.

If Remus wanted everything to go on normally, then Harry would do his best to support that - and so he talked about Quidditch brooms with Charlie and Ron as he ate, trusting Remus to know he was willing to help him if needed.

****

Harry, Ginny, and Ron got in a little Quidditch practice with Charlie in the morning before lunch.  Remus appeared as usual for lunch, although he once again barely touched his food - even the chocolate soufflé that had Hestia Jones enraptured and prompted even Hermione to take a second helping.

Later in the afternoon, Hermione joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny in the pool for another go at the game they'd improvised on his birthday.  Harry thought he'd kept his mind sufficiently on the game to avoid letting the others know just how distracted he really was.

When the foursome returned to the house to change out of their swimsuits, they found the motherly little house-elf, Soma, in the central hall.  She was carrying a large silver tray, evidently urging Professor Lupin to accept it, but he only smiled kindly at her as he shook his head before retreating into the library.  Soma sniffed audibly, and the sound drew Hermione's attention.

"Soma, what's wrong?" she asked, hurrying over with the other three following in her wake.

Soma gestured with her tray as though it was the obvious explanation.  When Harry stopped beside her and could see the contents, he blinked at the confusing plethora of brown food.  In addition to a cup of warm, frothy hot chocolate steaming fragrantly next to its own little teapot, there was a wide selection of comestibles – all of them chocolate.  There were several types of brownies, from cake-like to fudgey, some decorated with thick chocolate icing or chocolate shavings, and a similar selection of chocolate biscuits.  There were two delectable wedges of chocolate cake with different icings surrounded by exquisite chocolate confectionery from chocolate caramels to truffles to tiny meringues.

"They look wonderful," Hermione said kindly, which was very good of her in view of the fact that both of her parents were dentists.

"Yeah, really great," Ron added enthusiastically.  Soma handed him the tray immediately, still looking forlorn.

"Master Remus wouldn't eat anything," she told them dolefully, her expression tragic.

"Er, maybe he wasn't hungry," Ron suggested.

"Master Remus is _unhappy_," Soma insisted, clearly very upset herself.  Hermione looked as though she were trying to think of something reassuring to say as the house-elf's expression suddenly became resolved.

"He needs _pie!_"  Soma gave a decided nod after making this pronouncement, as though a difficult question had been settled, and disappeared with a pop.

"_Pie_?"  Ron said in amazement, staring at the bounty of chocolate he was holding.

"If he ate all that, what he'd need is insulin," Hermione murmured abstractedly, her forehead creased in concentration.

"What's insulin?" Ron asked, curious.  Hermione opened her mouth, possibly to launch a discourse on the subject of insulin, when Ginny inserted herself deftly into the conversation.

"I'm more concerned about Professor Lupin," she said firmly.  "Why is he upset?"

"_Is_ he upset?" her brother responded.  "He looked fine just a minute ago."

"He's pretty good at concealing his feelings," Hermione pointed out.  "He's been looking more, well, _tired_ the last couple days, but I didn't realize it was anything serious."

"Is it?"  Ron asked.  "Just because he's been looking tired?  He never really looked full of beans to begin with, probably because of – " Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable at this point "well, you know," he finished awkwardly.

"Judging by the amount of chocolate, it is pretty serious, and I think Soma would know," Hermione concluded.

Inwardly torn, Harry spoke.  "I think the best thing to do is to wait and see if it's something he wants to share."  Ron's mouth, which had been busy sampling one of the biscuits, fell open.  Hermione and Ginny both looked at Harry very sharply, and he concentrated on trying to look normal.

Ron swallowed quickly and said, "You're always complaining when they don't tell us stuff, what's with the 'wait and see' bit?"

Harry, feeling like a traitor, responded, "We don't know that this has anything to do with Voldemort.  Whatever is upsetting Professor Lupin could be personal."

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a speaking look before Hermione had to reach out and steady the tray of chocolate.  It was wobbling dangerously on one of Ron's hands, the other still holding the rest of the biscuit he had plucked from it.

"Really, Ron, just set it down somewhere," Hermione directed in exasperation.  Ron shrugged.

"If all we're doing is waiting, we may as well be comfortable," he said pragmatically, heading for the lounge with Hermione helping to support the overflowing tray.

"This is what you were worried about, isn't it?" Ginny asked Harry very directly.  Harry stared at her in amazement.

"How did you – " he stopped abruptly.  "I mean, it isn't – I can't – "

"Is there anything we can do?" 

"Umm, no, not – "

"Okay."  Ginny took his arm and gently steered him toward the living room where Ron and Hermione were picking over the chocolates.  "Let us know if we can help."

****

Catherine's brother had to be notified.  

Remus, hoping he might be of some service to him, acceded to Dumbledore's request that he be present when Michael was informed about the situation.  They met in the library, and Michael Clare received the news that his sister was overdue on a mission for the Order with concern.  There was very little either the Headmaster or Remus could think of to say however, and the interview was correspondingly brief.  It was Michael who drew their conversation to a close and walked out into the hall to stare up at the fountain.

After a short silence, Dumbledore excused himself, leaving Remus and Michael alone in the central hall.  Remus tried to think of something appropriate to say to Catherine's closest relation, but Michael was the first to speak.

"At least we know she's still alive," he said quietly.

"We – " Lupin's voice broke and he steadied it before trying again.  "I'm glad you understand that we haven't given up hope."  Michael smiled slightly and turned to look directly at Remus.

"You don't understand, do you?  We _know_ Catherine's still alive, it's not just hope," he told him calmly, sympathetic green eyes meeting anguished amber ones.  "She never explained about the fountain, did she?"

"The fountain?" Remus asked, bewildered by the change in subject.  "You mean about the cats defending the house when it's under attack?  I knew about that, although I never did understand why their letting me out of the house upset her so much."

Michael looked at him very sharply indeed.  "So they listen to you, do they?"  Then to Remus' great surprise, Michael chuckled.  "I suspected that they might decide to one day, but I didn't realize that they already had."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what - "

"The Stone House cats are quite independent, you see," Michael told him, nodding toward the central fountain with a trace of gentle amusement lingering in his eyes.  "It's a big advantage in many ways - they'll defend Stone House whether the head of the house is available to give instructions or not - but with that comes the possibility that they will do the unexpected.  Catherine has never controlled them - none of our line ever has - although it may look that way to an outsider.  I don't think you can ever really _control_ a cat.  They may _choose_ to listen to you, but that's not the same thing."

"But how do you _know_ she's alive?" Remus demanded, focusing on the only thing that really mattered.

"Because the panther is still on top of the fountain," Michael told him.  "When there's a new head of Stone House, the cat best suited to that person takes charge.  I don't know how they decide that - I'm not sure I want to know - but I _do_ know that as long as the panther is on top of the fountain, Catherine is still alive.  When Catherine dies, the panther will step down and another one of the cats will take over."

Remus stared at the stone panther, his heart pounding in his chest.  "So you weren't just saying that?  She really is alive?"

Michael put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  "I'm not just saying that, Remus.  She's really alive."  Remus drew a shuddering breath, and Michael patted his back in sympathy.

"I'm told it was the lion while my grandfather was alive," Michael continued thoughtfully, and Remus was grateful for the chance to compose himself.  "I never saw it, of course – he died before I was born – but Cat says she remembers it.  It's supposed to be a family secret, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread it around – although I expect we've been a bit optimistic about just how secret it really is.  It's a little hard to pretend that every time the head of the house dies, their successor's first instinct is always to redecorate, and always starting with the fountain," he pointed out wryly.

"I see your point," Remus admitted.  Over the last few days, he had become accustomed to the painful tightness in his chest, and he was surprised to find that it has eased just a little.

Michael regarded him for a moment, before asking gently, "Better now?"  Remus flushed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – " Michael waved away his apology, but Remus tried again.  "We should all be supporting you at this time – "

"I'm afraid that I've had quite a bit of practice at having my sister in danger.  I can't say I've gotten used to it – " Michael looked rather shrewdly at Remus, "I'm not sure you _can_ get used to it enough to actually stop worrying – but I have learned how to cope with it without going crazy.  At least when it's Cat – I think I'd be a basket case if it were Maggie."  It took Remus a moment to absorb the significance of the last comment and the way Michael was looking at him.

"Oh, no, we're not – I mean, we haven't – I haven't – "

"You're not in love with Catherine?"  Her brother was surveying him with a combination of skepticism and sympathy that made lying impossible.  Remus closed his eyes against it and gathered his composure.  When he opened them again, Michael was still regarding him with patient kindness.

"I would like to think that I can claim the honor of being her friend."  Remus was astonished to hear that his voice was fairly steady.  "Whatever my feelings for her, I would never presume there could be more than that."

Michael lifted a brow in inquiry.  "Why ever not?" he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice.  Remus realized, with an odd sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he was going to have to explain why he was hopelessly ineligible as a suitor.

"Never mind, it wouldn't make any difference anyway," Michael was telling him kindly.  "Unless you've already got a current wife somewhere – although I really don't think my sister would approve of that – the only opinion that really matters is hers."

Remus found his voice.  "I'm not sure you understand.  You see, I – "

"Please don't explain it to me.  Save the explanations for Catherine, when she comes home," Michael directed very firmly.  "Speaking of which, I had better get home myself."  He started walking toward the lounge.  "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to stop by and check in from time to time?"

Remus realized, puzzled and still off-balance, that Catherine's brother was waiting for permission to visit his sister's home from someone who could hardly claim to be anything more than a house guest.  "No, of course not, any time."


	15. Return

Michael did stop by from time to time, usually a couple times a day.  Now that Remus understood the significance of the fountain, he would have notified Catherine's brother immediately if there was a change in the figures.  There was really no reason for Michael to Floo across the Atlantic Ocean twice a day when nothing had happened, but Remus was grateful that he did.  The calm demeanor of Kate's brother was its own unspoken reassurance.  He never stayed very long, but he always found time to speak to Remus, even if it was only a few words of comfort and a momentary clasp of his hand or pat on the back.  

Michael had made what Remus thought of as his evening visit when Remus headed up to his room on the night of the full moon.  Having drunk his Potion, Lupin turned his attention to his personal checklist - locking the doors, putting away his robes, and waiting for the inevitable.  He hadn't been all that hungry lately, what with worrying about Kate's continued absence, but he forced himself to eat a substantial dinner.  Given the ease of his last transformation, he assumed that tonight the full moon would pass without too much difficulty.  

He was wrong.

The wolf emerged in the full throes of the hunting instinct, bounding toward the doors before Remus' mind subdued the animal's body.  He had no time to even acknowledge his shock that this could happen - that the animal's instincts could override his control while his mind was still intact - when he was again assaulted by this body's instinctive predatory urges.

Bracing himself mentally, Remus managed to retain control.  Probing tentatively, he tried to figure out what was upsetting his wolf aspect so much.  The animal's instincts and emotions were much less complex than his own, and at first all he could sense was the need to hunt - which made no sense when he _knew_ he wasn't hungry - accompanied by a mixture of anger and pain.  It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that he finally puzzled through it.

He needed to find Kate.

His wolf side was aware that she was missing, and that something was wrong.  It wanted to go find her.  Remus hadn't understood what was happening, unable at first to distinguish between the wolf's urge to hunt to _find_ rather than hunt for prey.  He was quite accustomed to the latter, but it was the first time he had experienced the former.

When Remus transformed back to himself in the morning, he was exhausted.  After the initial shock of losing control, he had maintained it the rest of the night, but it had been more difficult than he anticipated.  His wolfish side could not comprehend why he was confined when he should be out hunting.  It had wanted to howl, but Remus, who had not put a Silencing Charm on the room, refused to let it.  He did manage to relieve his feelings a little by prowling anxiously around the room, but it did no more than take the worst edge off.  

Back in his own body the following morning, he lay unmoving on the floor for a very long time.

***

The morning following the night of the full moon, Harry did not see Remus until lunch time.  His former professor looked much as Harry had expected him to - which was not saying much - although he was noticeably quieter than usual, and excused himself directly after the meal.

For the rest of the day, he closeted himself in the library, apparently reading.  Harry had joined him there for a while.  Observing him from behind his own book, Harry had his doubts that Remus was actually absorbing anything from the pages in front of him, but he didn't seem to want to talk, so Harry gave up after a while and went upstairs to finally finish up an essay that would be due at the start of term, now less than two weeks away.  Working diligently, he managed to just about finish it before dinner, when he set it aside and decided to go get something to eat.  

As he passed through the central hall, he noticed that the cat on top of the fountain had changed positions.  It was now standing upright, its front paws raised in the air as if about to spring.  Harry wondered about this rather vaguely, but forgot about it as he went in to dinner and saw Remus.  

Professor Lupin was looking thinner and more worn, and his eyes still held that bruised look.  He seemed to be making an effort to speak to the rest of them in his normal manner, but he did not accompany them to the family room after dinner.  Harry joined Ginny, Hermione and Charlie at the table there for a practice game of Tournament, but his mind wasn't on the game and he quickly begged off, using the excuse that he needed to polish his essay.  

Much to his amazement, when he came into the central hall he saw that Catherine Clare was standing there, talking to Professors Dumbledore and Snape in a low voice.  Her usually immaculate robes had scorch marks in places, and there were large rents in the skirt.  Even from his vantage point across the hall and some distance away, Harry could see that she was very tired, but she was conversing fairly normally which had to mean she wasn't badly hurt.  

Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him.  Remus would be so pleased to see that she was safe.

Just then, Harry heard a door slam as though it had been pushed violently open, and Remus emerged from the library a moment later.  He looked anything but pleased.

"Remus!"  Catherine's eyes lit up and she took a step toward him as though out of instinct and then stopped.  Remus had stopped too, still several feet away from her.  

"I'm fine," she told him quickly.  "The Time-Turner was damaged and I couldn't get back when I – "

"You're fine,"  Remus repeated flatly.  He appeared to be literally shaking with the effort of controlling some powerful emotion.  "You're _fine_," he said again, his voice picking up in volume.  "_Fine_!  Has it occurred to you that maybe it's sheer good fortune that you made it back here just _fine_?"  It crossed Harry's mind that he had never heard Remus shout before.  He was very good at it. 

Catherine's eyes narrowed dangerously.  "I'm not quite sure I perfectly understand your meaning," she intoned silkily.  

"Uh-oh," Moody muttered under his breath, having just arrived next to Harry.  Ginny and Hermione emerged from the family room a moment later, pausing on Moody's other side.

"I MEAN THAT YOU'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE AN IDIOT!"  Remus bellowed.  "What could you _possibly_ have been thinking going up against four Death Eaters alone?  Or were you even _thinking_ at all?"

Nearly everyone in the house had arrived in the hall by now, which had fallen deathly silent.  Remus and Catherine were facing each other like combatants, Remus, his chest heaving with fury, Catherine unnaturally still.  

"I see."  Catherine, who was now perfectly white, held herself with the proud composure of a queen.  Her voice was colder than Harry had ever heard it, each word enunciated with the crystalline clarity of a drop of ice.  

Remus, suddenly stricken, started to speak in a very different voice, "Kate, _no_, I – "

"I assure you that I will do everything in my power to see that you are not troubled by my _thoughtlessness_ again in future.  Gentlemen," still perfectly composed and rigidly erect, she gathered Dumbledore and Snape with her eyes, "shall we continue the debriefing in the study?"  She left without as much as a single glance at Remus, Dumbledore and Snape following silently behind.  

Much to Harry's amazement, he saw Snape glance at Remus in passing with something approaching sympathy.

"Damn,"  Moody muttered under his breath.  

"What happened?"  Ron asked.  He had evidently been taking a bath; his hair was still wet, and he appeared to have thrown on his dressing gown hastily.  Remus, moving like a man who has been mortally wounded, was heading blindly toward the front door.

"No, boy,"  Harry wasn't even aware he had started to follow Remus until Moody stopped him.  "You can't help him now, give him a little time to calm down."  Ron was looking at them with a puzzled expression.

"Why does he need to calm down?" Ron asked them.  "Is everything all right?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say.  Hermione broke the silence.  "Miss Clare is back," she told him.

"Oh," Ron murmured still looking a little bewildered.  "What's the matter with Professor Lupin?"

"That's between the two of them."  Moody shot a penetrating look at Harry.  "Outsiders trying to get mixed up in it will only make it worse."  He stumped off.

There was a long silence.  "Has everyone gone mad?"  Ron demanded.

Hermione sighed and tried to explain.  "Catherine Clare came back from wherever she's been, and Professor Lupin yelled at her.  He's been terribly worried about her, but instead of saying so, he lost his temper and hurt her feelings.  She got very formal and walked out with Dumbledore and Snape.  Professor Lupin is still upset and now he doesn't know what to do, so he went outside."

Ron was staring at Hermione in amazement.  "How do you _know_ this stuff?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother.  "It's pretty obvious, really, if you're paying attention."

Ron turned to Harry.  "Did Lupin really yell?"  Harry nodded.  "Because Catherine's back?"  Harry shrugged.  "Did you know they were – ?" Ron trailed off suggestively.

"Well, he never said anything," Harry answered carefully.

Ginny snorted.  "That's probably the problem right there," she said wisely.

****

Remus didn't hear Michael approach until he sat down on the bench next to him.

"Michael," Remus greeted him, trying to pull himself together.  "Catherine is fine, she's back.  I'm sorry, I should have let you know - "

Michael waved his apologies away.  "It's okay, I found out when I got here," he smiled.  "This way, it was a nice surprise."  Remus tried to return the smile, but it was a feeble effort.

"She's in the study at the moment, if, um, - "

"Yes, the debriefing," Michael said calmly.  "Are you planning to join them?"

"What?  I don't - "  Remus swallowed hard.  "You heard about it," he said sickly.  "It was all my fault.  I was completely in the wrong - I don't know how I could possibly have - " he trailed off.

"Oh, you definitely screwed up," Michael agreed comfortably.  "I expect you're going to need to do more than apologize - actual groveling may be required."  Remus groaned and dropped his head in his hands.  Michael reached out to clasp his shoulder supportively.

"I don't know how to fix this," Remus admitted helplessly.  "I don't even understand how it happened."

"I'd suggest talking to Catherine," her brother told him evenly.  "Soon."

"She won't want to talk to me, not after - "

"The longer you don't talk to her, the longer she's going to have to convince herself that you meant what you said."  Remus looked up, startled.

"She can't - I was totally in the wrong - "

"How would she know that's what you think if you don't tell her?" Michael pointed out reasonably.  

"Come on," he directed, rising and pulling Remus to his feet at the same time.  "I'll go break up the debriefing.  After I reassure myself that my only sister is basically intact, you may be able to get a few minutes with her to start patching things up."

****

Michael was as good as his word.  Dumbledore and Snape departed shortly after Catherine's brother entered the study, leaving Remus pacing nervously in the adjacent writing room.  When the door opened a few minutes later, he looked up to find that Catherine was only a short distance away from him, having accompanied her brother to the door.  Her eyes met his, and Remus was only dimly aware of Michael, sounding amused, saying he would show himself out.

Remus took a hesitant step forward.  "Kate, I'm more sorry than I can tell you for the way I acted.  I should never have spoken to you like that.  I hope that you'll be able to forgive me."  

Kate looked away, and he saw that her hand had tightened on the door.  "I've been over and over it, and I don't know what else I could have done," she replied painfully.  "Severus _had_ to maintain his cover - he's much too important to the Order - and I couldn't trust Emmeline in a fight against Malfoy."  

Hearing her question herself tore at his heart and he took another step forward, still not daring to touch her.  He _had_ to maintain his self control this time.

"Kate, you didn't do _anything_ wrong, I know that," he assured her.  She met his eyes again, her own hurt and indignant.  "I don't have any right to express an opinion, but it sounds like you were very smart and very brave."

"You _yelled_ at me," she protested.  "I don't understand why you _yelled_ at me."

_Because I wanted to take you in my arms and snog you senseless for scaring the hell out me and I couldn't._  

The answer presented itself to his mind with crystalline clarity, and he knew immediately that it was the truth.  _Seeing_ her simply hadn't been enough.  He had been consumed by a primitive need to _touch_ her, illogically unable to accept that she was really safe without the reassurance of a physical contact that was forbidden to him.

Now, he couldn't even tell her the whole truth, and he prayed that he could somehow salvage their relationship with only the portion of the truth that he dared to admit.

"I was afraid something had happened to you, and I reacted very badly just because I was worried.  _Please_ don't let it undermine your confidence in yourself - I didn't mean anything I said, I just didn't handle it very well."  He wasn't sure who moved to close the remaining distance between them.

"I didn't _want_ you to be worried," Kate was assuring him earnestly, but her nearness assaulted his senses and he couldn't seem to concentrate properly on her words, not now, when he had no defenses left.  "I _really_ tried to get back when I was supposed to, but I couldn't get the Time-Turner to reset!  I finally had to reverse the last use, but I'd already been there for more than a week and I - "  Remus cut her off by the simple expedient of covering her mouth with his own.

She was in his arms and he was kissing her fiercely, with a desperate hunger that bore no resemblance to the tentative exploration that should have marked this first kiss.  Instead, there was only raw need, and the glorious feeling of her body caught so intimately against his own as he plundered the heady sweetness of her lips.  

Then, by some miracle, he felt her mouth opening beneath him in response, granting him the deeper access he craved, and her hands were on his back, holding him in return - and any hope of a return to rational thought deserted him as the last fragment of his control shattered.  

He was so lost in the wonder of her that he never remembered how they managed to get upstairs.

****

Remus slept long and deeply, but he was pleased to find that he still woke before Catherine.  In her sleep, she unconsciously accepted the way his body had wrapped itself protectively around her, and he wanted to enjoy the feeling of being able to hold her so closely.  He wasn't sure whether he would ever have a moment like this again, and he was going to savor every heavenly sensation - the warmth of her skin, the gentle movement of her chest in time with her breathing, and the delicious womanly scent that was somehow _Kate_.  

Even as every fiber of his being drank in her nearness, fear began to niggle at the back of his mind.  What would she think when she woke up?  After the way he had behaved - Remus flushed as he remembered.   

Kate woke up more gradually than he had expected, seemingly content to continue dozing just where she was even as she returned to consciousness.

"Morning," he murmured huskily, daring to place a light kiss on the nape of her neck in greeting.

"Mmm."  She made a noise he interpreted as acknowledgment but didn't open her eyes.

His arms tightened around her, and she snuggled obligingly closer without speaking.

"I know we need to talk," he began.

"Mmh."

"We probably should have talked last night, before, well - " he continued.  If he was honest with himself, he hadn't dared to tell her that he loved her.  She had been in his arms, responding to him, and he had needed her too desperately to risk anything that might make her hesitate in allowing him to love her.   

Now he had to face the consequences of his cowardice - making the confession he should have made last night and praying that she would give him another chance.  _So much for the famous Gryffindor courage_, he thought, and stumbled on.

"Sometimes there can be an imbalance in a relationship, when the feelings of one of the parties are more engaged than the other's," he continued.  To his surprise, Catherine pulled herself out of his arms and had turned around to face him.  Her eyes were open now, and she was frowning at him.  His heart sank.

"It doesn't mean that the relationship can't work," he went on determinedly.  She didn't have to return his feelings, if only she would allow him to stay with her.  He was past the point of worrying about his pride where Kate was concerned.  "It merely - "

"This sounds like I conversation I need to be fully awake to cope with," Kate told him grimly.  "We can resume it after I've had a shower and dressed."  She immediately rolled herself out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.  He heard the shower running a moment later.

There seemed to be nothing else to do but get dressed himself and wait for her to return.  He restored the bed they had shared to order with a pang and waited.  A short time after the shower stopped, he saw a tray appear on the table in front of the fireplace and walked over to it.  His morning coffee was sharing a tray with her morning cocoa, and he stared down at them for a moment, achingly aware of how much he wanted to see this exact sight every morning for the rest of his life.

"Would you prefer something else?" Catherine asked from across the room.  Remus turned to look at her, standing there in the light of the late morning sun.

"I beg your pardon?"

She walked over to pick up her cocoa.  "You were looking upset at the coffee.  Would you prefer something else?" she repeated, seating herself on the sofa across from the fire.

"No, no."  Remus, after a short internal debate, joined her on the sofa.  Catherine shot him a look he could only describe as wary, took a sip of her cocoa and set the cup down.  She appeared to be bracing herself, he concluded with some dismay.

"Kate," he began again, "I know that you must have realized the strength of my feelings for you at this point - " Remus was pleased that he managed to keep his voice fairly steady as he spoke, " - and I know that it's far too soon to expect you to feel anything comparable in return - "  He had been watching her expression anxiously and was startled when her eyes widened in sudden astonishment.

"_Oh_!"  With only that sudden exclamation for warning, Kate launched herself into his arms, which closed instinctively around her.

"_Kate_?" he asked hoarsely.  "What - "  She cut off his speech with a very enthusiastic kiss, and Remus felt little champagne explosions of delight within.

"Oh, Remus, I got everything backwards and I've been _miserable_," she explained in a rush as soon as she freed her lips.  "I thought you were telling me you would never love me back!  But you _do_, don't you?  Or at least, you don't mind?  I mean, about my - "  Remus covered her mouth with his for a long, delirious moment.  

When he finally pulled away, just a little, she was looking delightfully dazed.  _I did that_, he thought in a strange combination of smugness, amazement, and masculine satisfaction.

"I don't mind at all," he said hoarsely, blissfully unaware that he was looking more than a little dazed himself.  "I _love_ you, and I'm _in_ love with you, and I have been for a _very_ long time."

"Oh, _good. _ Because I'm _dreadfully_ in love with you too."  Tears were welling up in her blue-gray eyes, and she started laughing and dabbing at them with the sleeve of her robe.  "Isn't it ridiculous?  Crying because you're happy?"

"I don't think it's ridiculous at all," Remus declared, hanging on to her almost fearfully.  He hadn't believed he was capable of feeling this way.  It was too much to accept.

"Kate, are you _sure_?" he asked her in a very different voice.  He didn't know if he could bear it if he dared to believe this and then he lost her.  "That you want _me_?  I mean, I'm not much of a catch, an impoverished werewolf who's seen too much - "

"Remus, I'm _sure_,"  Kate cut him off quite decidedly, and with a tart edge to her voice that inexplicably thrilled him.  "Mostly because I've more than half a brain!  You're an intelligent, capable man, with a wonderful sense of humor, who also happens to be the kindest and most considerate human being I've ever known.  Of _course_ I want you!"  Remus felt tears welling in his own eyes and raised her hand to his lips in wordless gratitude.

"I also think you'd be a wonderful father," she added somewhat tentatively.

"Father?" he echoed, still stunned and off balance in the wake of the revelation that Kate wanted _him_.  The word conjured up a host of intoxicating images - Kate holding a baby, _their_ child, with blue-gray eyes so like her own - a miniature version of his beloved Kate toddling through the halls of Stone House, as willful and loving as her talented and temperamental mother - the two of them standing together on platform nine and three-quarters, his arm about her as they waved their children off to the school that had meant so much to him - 

"Would you mind if we had a few children?"  Kate was asking, still a little hesitant.  "I know you've had a lot of responsibility for Harry the last few years, and I'd understand if - "

"I think children would be _wonderful_," he assured her, unable to find a word that did not understate his feelings.  She was still looking a little dubious.

"I think I ought to warn you that some of the children in our family tend to be a little, um - "

"Precocious?" he suggested, unable to suppress his delight.  "Darling, you're forgetting that I met Annabel."

"You don't mind?"  Remus laughed out loud, the champagne bubbles of happiness exploding into geysers.  

"I think I can handle the cuddling involved," he assured her, pulling her closer to demonstrate.  "A method of distraction I'm willing to practice almost endlessly!"  Catherine nestled happily into his arms.  

"I do think we ought to talk about getting married first," Remus said after a satisfactory interval.

"How about this weekend?" she responded contentedly.

"This weekend?"  Kate nodded.

"Well, there's not that much time left before school starts," she explained.  "I assumed you were going to ask - "

"Yes, I was," he admitted.  "If you don't mind, that is.  He did rather - "

"Don't be silly, of course you should ask him."

"Can we get everything ready in time?  Weddings can be awfully complicated to plan."

"I don't care about the wedding, I just want us to be married.  That part only takes a few minutes," she pointed out.  "Unless you would prefer - "

"The only thing better than being married to you this weekend would be being married to you this minute."  Smiling, he brushed another soft kiss across her lips, reveling in his freedom to do so.  "I expect there will still be a lot of planning, but at least it will be over soon."

"Well," Catherine's eyes were twinkling impishly at him and he couldn't help smiling in return, "I do have an idea about how to handle that."

"Tell me," he prompted.

She did.


	16. Preparations

Harry was nervous enough when Remus and Catherine never appeared for breakfast.  He was hoping it meant that they'd made up after their fight, or at least were _talking_ about it, but he was afraid they were still avoiding each other.  When lunch started without either of them present, he began to wonder if he ought to go look for Remus after the meal, despite Moody's warning not to interfere.

Then both of them walked into the morning room where everyone was eating, and even if their arms had not been entwined about each other, one look at either of their faces would have told him that everything was fine between them.  Harry couldn't remember ever seeing Professor Lupin look so carefree and happy, and Catherine Clare almost seemed to glow.

"If I could have your attention for a moment, I'd like to make an announcement," Professor Lupin said clearly.  "I'm delighted to say that, much to my amazement - " he and Catherine exchanged looks before Remus continued " - Catherine has done me the great honor of agreeing to accept me as her husband!"

There were fewer people at the midday meal than there had been at the breakfast when Knoggin joined the Weasley family, but the ensuing commotion was at least as loud.  Hestia Jones sprang up immediately and, with tears in her eyes, hugged Catherine as though it had just been announced that she was Apparating to the moon and would never be heard from again.  Molly Weasley, who looked somewhat dumbfounded, rescued the bride-to-be by hugging her herself, while Ginny and Hermione fluttered around, chattering brightly as they wished Catherine well and tried to settle Hestia down.

Remus was surrounded by a thick cluster of people congratulating him - Harry was surprised to see him shaking hands with Snape before the Potions Master turned to offer his best wishes to Catherine Clare - and it was some time before Harry could reach him.

"Congratulations," Harry told him, genuinely pleased as he shook hands enthusiastically.  "I think it's wonderful."  

Remus leaned in as though sharing a great secret and whispered, "So do I!" and they both laughed.  Harry marveled at the extraordinary change in his appearance that seemed to be the product of nothing other than happiness.

"Harry, I wanted to ask if you would stand up for me?" Professor Lupin said.  Harry, who was already standing, was momentarily confused.  "The wedding will be very small," he continued, "but I would be very pleased if you would agree to act as my best man."

The sudden surge of emotion caught Harry off guard.  "I'd be honored," he said, his voice thick.  Then, because he had already shook Remus' hand and somehow it seemed appropriate, he hugged him very hard.

"Have you set a date for the wedding?" Hestia was asking the bride-to-be, and the others fell silent to hear the answer.  Catherine Clare, momentarily free of the press of well-wishers who had been hugging her, returned to Remus' side as though drawn there by a very strong Summoning Charm, and her future husband slipped an arm around her.

"We have a few things to settle first," Catherine said, glancing at Remus and receiving a quick nod.  "Severus, would you agree to stand up for me?"

Harry was forever grateful that Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were all in the room to see the expression on the Potions Master's face for themselves.  He would never have been able to find words to adequately describe it.

Finally Severus Snape managed to say, "You are asking _me_ - "

"To serve as my principal attendant at my wedding," Catherine finished for him quite calmly.  "Yes, I am.  My only attendant, actually."  She waited another moment for a response that Snape seemed to be incapable of giving.

"It's probably not quite as much of an honor as one would think, as there will be a great deal of work involved," she continued, "but then I do believe I owe you for all those dueling practices."  Her light blue-gray eyes met Severus' black ones, and Harry had the sense that she had managed to convey several levels of meaning with a few well-chosen words.  

Harry glanced instinctively at Remus to see how he felt about this, but Remus appeared perfectly relaxed and not at all surprised by Catherine's request that Severus Snape take part in their wedding.  Remus noticed Harry looking at him, and gave him a quick, reassuring wink.

"Remus and I would like to be married this weekend, and we're asking our attendants to handle the wedding planning on our behalf," Catherine was saying.  It took Harry a moment to absorb this, realizing the incredible amount of work that would need to be done in a very short time - and also realizing that he and Catherine's attendant would need to work together to accomplish it.  

Everyone in the room seemed to be waiting for Snape to give her an answer, but he had yet to say anything definitive one way or the other.  Harry wondered why on earth she had asked him - and then, like a kaleidoscope shifting, everything seemed to fall into place - "_Another member of the Order went with her that night_ " - Snape's proposal for regular combat training - "_Catherine stayed and fought them alone" _- Snape's insistence on drilling against multiple opponents - "_I owe you for all those dueling practices_" - and he understood.  

He also knew what to do.

"They're probably hoping you'll be able to keep me from messing things up too much," Harry told Professor Snape gravely.  

The normally formidable man in black seemed to pull himself together.  "I would be - honored - " he said carefully " - to do what I can."

"Thank you," Catherine said simply, glancing again at Remus.  

"And now, if you'll excuse us, we'd like a few minutes with Severus and Harry before we leave," he said to the company at large.

"You're leaving?" Molly Weasley asked sharply.

"Why, yes," Remus said, his expression carefully bland.  "Catherine and I thought we'd spend the time before the wedding visiting my home.  She's never seen it, you know, and she probably ought to before the ceremony."

"Very proper," Hestia said approvingly.  

Harry happened to look over at Professor Snape, and had the strange impression that the sour-faced man was amused, although Harry couldn't imagine why.

*****

The four of them adjourned to the study, where Catherine immediately started issuing instructions.

"We want a _very_ small wedding with a minimum of fuss," she said quite firmly.  "There are a few people to be invited who aren't in the Order or on the staff at Hogwarts - like my brother - and we've noted their direction for you and left it on the desk."

"It won't be as difficult as you might think," Remus assured Harry, who was starting to feel a little overwhelmed.  "Professor Dumbledore can help you take care of the special license.  Kate and I will take care of our rings and the wedding trip.  Just owl us at my place and tell us when you need us to be back here for the ceremony."

"Keys to our vaults are in the desk, and Madame Malkin has our robe measurements," Catherine continued.  "Am I forgetting anything?"

"I don't think so," Remus assured her calmly.

Catherine looked at Severus Snape meaningfully.  

"If you make me look like a meringue on my wedding day, I will hex you into oblivion," she said very evenly.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he responded dryly.

****

Harry never thought he would be thankful to have to work with Severus Snape on _anything_, but he had to admit privately that there were worse people with whom he could have been stuck planning a wedding than his far-from-beloved teacher.  

Snape, a ruthless perfectionist in the classroom, proved to be equally zealous in producing a flawless ceremony.  Within minutes of the couple's departure, he had generated two master lists of the tasks to be done - Harry was relieved to see that the groom's list was a good deal shorter than the bride's - and then Snape began attacking the items on his own list with brutal efficiency.

What surprised Harry most was that the he didn't do it all himself.  It quickly became clear that he could have, for the Potions Master cowed recalcitrant florists into submission and forced already-engaged musicians and photographers to accommodate him with equal facility.  He could just as easily have made any requisite decisions - which flowers? what music? - or simply demanded the best from the various providers; Harry had no doubt the result would have been spectacular. 

Instead, however, Severus Snape drew mercilessly upon the talents of others to accomplish his own apparent goal of matchless perfection for the occasion.  Professor Sprout was first consulted about background greenery - the ceremony was to be held in the central hall of Stone House on Saturday evening - and later accompanied them both to the florist.  Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, when requested, both threw themselves enthusiastically into planning other aspects of the decorations - Harry overheard them arguing vehemently about the type of figures to be used to hold up some sort of drapery coming down from the ceiling - and the Headmaster himself was asked to weigh in on the subject of music.  Severus Snape and Molly Weasley were closeted together for almost half a day before they settled on a menu for the dinner, which seemed to Harry rather a long time to take to decide what to eat.  

Harry had followed the Potions Master's example and recruited Hermione to help him with the bridal bouquet.  When the florist, after lengthy discussions with Professors Sprout and Snape during which Harry thought they must have debated the merits of every magical and Muggle plant in existence, had finally turned to Harry and asked him what he wanted, he had said simply that he was still deciding and would let him know the following morning.  Professor Snape had shot him a very dubious look but, surprisingly, had not said anything.  Harry returned to Stone House, found Hermione, and asked for her help.  

Hermione had quizzed him extensively about the ceremony before she disappeared into the library.  She had woken him up _very_ early the following morning to go over the results of her research and give her recommendations.  Harry was astonished to find that there was a wealth of symbolism involved in the choices, which he had thought were only based on appearance and scent, and that availability was also a consideration.  By the time they had finalized the order, the sun was starting to rise.

Harry intended to leave the order on the desk in the study with a note for Snape when he came down.  He was quite surprised to walk in and find the Potions Master already there.  Snape was seated at Catherine Clare's desk, meticulously reviewing the various lists on orderly stacks of parchment in front of him.

"Potter," he said grimly when he saw Harry come in.

Harry walked over to stand in front of the desk.  "The order for Miss Clare's bouquet," he said evenly, setting the parchment down.  He was close enough to see the lines of tension in the Potions Master's face as he picked up the order; Harry could also see Snape relax almost imperceptibly as he read through the list of flowers to be included.

"Unless you can suggest any improvements," Harry added politely.  "I understand that the American form of one of the flowers listed may be difficult to get on short notice, but there is an alternate - "

"I am _quite_ sure Monsieur Floret will find he is able to obtain it," Snape hissed, cutting him off.  Harry felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the florist should he make the mistake of telling the Head of Slytherin House that he couldn't have the flowers he wanted.  

"You will be available this morning to visit Madam Malkin's?" he continued silkily, and Harry nodded.  "We will be leaving at nine."

Professor Vector, the arithmancy witch, was Snape's choice to assist in selecting dress robes for the wedding ceremony.  Harry, who had only seen her occasionally and always in her teaching attire, had no idea why until she met them at Madam Malkin's.  Even Harry, who knew very little about clothes, could tell that she was beautifully dressed, although he couldn't figure out what made this so.  Her robes were not particularly elaborate or decorated with lace or anything, but they were somehow exquisitely _right_.  

The two colleagues quickly decided on a simple and elegant design for Catherine's dress from several suggested by Madam Malkin, her wand generating three-dimensional outlines rotating obligingly in the air for their consideration.  Choosing the fabric and trim, however, took well over an hour.  Snape had known he wanted a creamy ivory, but to Harry's amazement he quickly lost count of the number of fabrics produced in that color.  Feeling rather nervous about the whole thing by the time his turn came, Harry picked out a simple fabric for Remus in a matte shade of old, dark gold that he thought would look well with Remus' amber eyes, and was relieved when Professor Vector nodded approvingly and even Snape said, "That will do," in a neutral tone that was as close to approval as the critical teacher ever came.

It was on the visit to Madam Malkin's that Harry found out that Snape had not been drawing on Catherine Clare's vault to fund any of this.  Having thanked Professor Vector again for her help, Harry had gone back inside the shop to inquire about how and when the robes would be delivered and had overheard Professor Snape arranging payment from his own Gringott's vault with Madam Malkin, who did not seem to find this remarkable.  She stepped away for a moment to address a matter of the buttons, and the Potions Master saw Harry standing there.  He promptly glared at him.

"If the bride's parents were alive, it would not be at all unusual for them to attend to these matters themselves," Snape informed him icily.  "Having been honored by Miss Clare as I have, it is not inappropriate for me to do so, particularly when it is easily within my means."  

The Potions Master was scowling at him more venomously than he had since they had begun planning the wedding, and with a flash of insight, Harry realized that he was deeply embarrassed.

"I wanted to check on the delivery arrangements," Harry said imperturbably.  He rather thought Snape was wishing he could order him out of the store.  "If you could find that out for me when Madam Malkin returns, I'll just wait for you outside."  He didn't wait for Snape's rather jerky nod to turn and leave again.  The Potions Master joined him a few minutes later.

"The robes will be delivered to Stone House by noon on Friday," he told Harry tightly.  Harry nodded.

They did not discuss it again.

The discovery was actually very useful.  Harry had just been using the money already in his purse for things - the groom apparently didn't have to pay for very much anyway - and had been wondering if it would cause problems if he sort of 'forgot' to reimburse himself out of Remus' vault.  Now he had a much better excuse, and he grinned privately at the thought that Snape had helped him out, albeit rather unintentionally.

Ginny Weasley had been asked - ordered actually, but she didn't object - to write out the invitations.  The Potions Master made it clear that he had chosen her for her handwriting and that she was not to allow anyone else to assist her.  The invitation list had grown in the couple's absence, Michael Clare having inquired very tactfully about the possibility of adding to it and Dumbledore making some suggestions of his own, usually along the lines of, "I expect that perhaps, in the rush of things, so-and-so's name _might_ have been omitted _quite_ inadvertently - "

Harry wondered what Remus and Catherine would think when they returned.

*****

After leaving Stone House, Remus and Catherine had spent the afternoon happily choosing their wedding rings and wandering around Hogsmeade hand in hand.  They arrived at Remus' house just before dinner time.  Catherine was smiling at it fondly as her future husband unlocked the front door.

"I'm really glad to be back here," she told him happily.  A thought struck him and he stopped.

"Why didn't you want to come?" he asked.

"I did," she told him, puzzled.  "I'm the one who suggested it."

"No, I meant when you were on your mission.  I heard you talking to Dumbledore, and you said you'd rather stay with _Severus_."  Kate laughed, and then wrapped her arms around him before she answered.

"Of course I would rather have stayed with Severus.  I wasn't in love with _him_," she pointed out.  "I was afraid I'd give too much away and make you suspicious.  I was supposed to be a stranger, but then I lost my temper when you treated me like a guest.  I didn't do a very good job of keeping my distance," she confessed.  Remus indulged himself with a very brief taste of her lips.

"You didn't make me suspicious," he told her quietly.  "Although I think you did make me fall in love with you, even if it was a long time before I understood what I was feeling."

Kate looked up at him almost shyly.  "When did you know?"

Remus considered for a moment.  "I think I realized it on some level when you asked me to visit after you gave me the Pensieve.  I heard myself make some excuse about checking with Dumbledore before I accepted, and I knew I was trying to give myself a way out if it was too hard - being with you without being able to show you how I really felt."  

"I came anyway, you know - I couldn't help it," he admitted wryly.  "I'd spent most of the time in between your visit as Cassie and meeting you again on a long and difficult job for Dumbledore.  It should have occupied all my attention - but I kept missing you.  Then, when I found you again, I couldn't turn down a chance to spend more time with you - even though I didn't think you could ever care for me as more than a friend, and I would only get hurt."

"At least you figured it out yourself," Catherine told him.  Remus was enthralled by the soft wave of color sweeping up to her hair.

"You didn't?"  She shook her head and mumbled something into his robes.  "What did you say, love?"

She raised her head again, still blushing.  "I said the cats knew before I did."  She sounded rather cross about it.

"The cats?"  Kate nodded, still looking distinctly ruffled.  "Does this have something to do with why you were so upset about the cats letting us out of the house?"

"Yes.  The cats don't listen to very many people," she told him.

"I gathered that," he said, still a little confused.

"Only the head of the house and his - or her - well - mate."

"_Mate?_"

"That's the closest word I can come up with," she said.  "It isn't 'spouse' - my grandmother couldn't make them listen and my grandparents were married for ages.  I don't think the cats care that much about human conventions like weddings anyway, the sense was more - " Kate shrugged helplessly.  "I think 'mate' is about as precise as I can be.  The cats seem to have their own standards about it, not many of the - um - partners have qualified over the centuries."

"The cats think I'm your mate?"  Remus grinned.  Then he started to laugh.  

"I don't think it's _that _funny," Kate protested, but Remus saw the corners of her lips twitch.  "You have no idea what it's like to have a bunch of _cats_ know that you've fallen hopelessly in love before you do.  And then _you_ came upstairs and kept wanting to know if there was something you could _do_!"  Remus had been trying to stifle his amusement, but this set him off again.  "The whole thing was mortifying," Kate insisted, but she allowed him to gather her into his arms.

"My darling Kate, I think I'm allowed to be delighted to have their approval," he told her.  "Particularly since it is so rarely bestowed.  It also explains how your brother knew I was in love with you."

Kate had been resting her head on his shoulder, but this made her look up.  "Michael knew?"

Remus answered her with a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.  "I seem to have inadvertently told him when we were talking about the cats, and I mentioned what had happened.  Not understanding the, er, _mate_ aspect of the story I had no idea what I was admitting."

"What _you_ were admitting?" Kate asked.  Remus smiled indulgently.

"I wouldn't be much of a mate if I wasn't madly in love with you," he pointed out.  Evidently this hadn't occurred to her.

"Oh!  So it meant that you were - "

"Yes, love," he told her, tenderly amused.  "Michael seems to have realized it even if you didn't."

"He didn't explain things to you?"

"Not that part, but he did tell me that you were alive as long as the panther was on top of the fountain, which was an incredible relief.  He also kept coming by to check on how I was doing - which, without you, was not very well," he admitted.  "You have a very supportive family."

"Well, at least he won't be surprised by the sudden wedding invitation," Catherine said philosophically.

"Speaking of weddings," Remus said, sweeping her off her feet in the most literal sense.  "I have suddenly become very interested in the topic of honeymoons."  Having carried her over the threshold, he lowered her slowly to her feet inside the front hall in a manner calculated to maximize the contact between them.  Then he began to kiss her with great intensity.

When he allowed her a momentary pause to catch her breath, they were both breathing very hard.

"Do you need to greet Uncle Bertie first?" she asked, rather shakily.  He shook his head, his eyes focused only on her.

"Later," he said.  It was the last word either of them spoke for quite some time.


	17. Ceremony

They were putting away the breakfast dishes on Friday morning when the owl arrived, dropping a letter for each of them on the table and immediately taking off again.

Catherine's note from Severus was quite short, and she was able to finish scanning it while Remus put the last cup away.  "Everything's fine, ceremony tomorrow at six, supper to follow, they don't need us back until two or three at the latest," she summarized, tossing it back on the table.  Remus looked rather amused.

"That's all he told you?" he asked.  Catherine looked surprised.

"What else do I need to know?"

Remus went over to open his own letter from Harry.  "Probably nothing," he told her absently.  "I'm merely impressed by your firm focus on essentials."  

Then he began reading his message from Harry and part way through, started to chuckle.  When he finished, he handed her the letter.  "The last couple paragraphs," he suggested, still chuckling.  Kate's eyes narrowed.  

_I probably ought to warn you that the wedding seems to be getting a little bit larger than I think you expected, as Professor Dumbledore and Catherine's brother have both been adding to the guest list.  If Catherine is concerned about the extra guests inflating the budget, please don't let her worry about it.  Professor Snape has been taking care of things as part of his wedding present, and of course I have done the same, although I can't say that the more elaborate arrangements make any difference to the groom's side.  _

_Working with him has been very interesting.  While I'm still not exactly fond of him, I can't help being impressed by his ability to arrange an event of this magnitude on such short notice.  I am looking forward to seeing you and Catherine enjoying the results tomorrow, and to congratulating you again in person - _

_Harry_

"That - " Kate seemed to have lost the power of speech temporarily.

"Snake?"  Remus suggested, trying hard not to laugh in the face of her stormy countenance.

"_Weasel_!"  Catherine expostulated, starting to pace.  "He _knew_ I wanted a small wedding.  He's doing this on purpose so I can't complain!"

"Do you think you could interpret it as a gesture of appreciation on his part?" Remus proposed, still struggling to repress his amusement.  "In recognition of the honor of standing up for you tomorrow?"  Kate glared at him.

"Well, of _course_ it is," she replied, clearly exasperated.  "I honored him _and_ stuck him with a lot of work planning our wedding.  In return, he's gone and paid for it!  He's managed a 'gesture of appreciation' _and_ he's fixed it so I can't complain about his not keeping the wedding small.  _Blast_!" 

Remus couldn't keep a straight face any longer, he simply had to start laughing again.  

"I'm sorry, darling," he said to Kate, pulling her into his arms in apology.  "I'm afraid he's beaten you this time."  Kate snorted.

"Just wait until _his_ wedding," she promised.

"You think that's likely any time soon?" Remus inquired idly.

"Well, not until Voldemort's taken care," Kate replied absently.  "Emmeline won't be able to come out of hiding until then."

"Emmeline Vance?" he asked in surprise.

Kate nodded.  "She's been at Grimmauld Place since Malfoy attacked."

"And you think - Severus?"

"Mmm-hmm.  He was too proud to say so while she was still getting over Malfoy, but she almost has to sooner or later."  A thought occurred to her, and her eyes gleamed.  "It's too bad I can't invite her to the wedding."

"You can't," Remus told her quite firmly.  "Severus has got you there too - we don't know who will be there any more, so it wouldn't be safe."  Kate made a face.

"Look at it this way," Remus told her, "Harry has spoiled Severus' surprise, hasn't he?"

"That's true," she agreed, brightening.

"And we have another whole day here to fortify ourselves to face the ceremony," he pointed out.

"True again," she was smiling up at him in a way that made his heart race.

"We don't really have to spend it talking about Severus and Emmeline, do we?" he asked huskily.

Kate answered him without speaking.

****

Until Remus and Catherine arrived back at Stone House, Saturday passed in a blur for Harry.  The florist, who arrived while most of the household was still at breakfast, was only the first in a stream of people swarming into the house in ever-increasing numbers as the day progressed.  Professor Snape stood glowering in the central hall most of the morning, his cold black eyes alert for the sight of anything that was not exactly as it should be.

"There is more fabric on the left side of that drapery than the right.  Fix it."

"Perhaps it was not clear to you, Monsieur Floret, that we require _fresh_ flowers?  Tell me, if you please, whether those below the fourth wall sconce on the east side of the hall are, in your opinion, quite up to our standards?"

"Does your employer imagine you capable of the simple task of setting out chairs so that they are neatly aligned?  How extraordinarily optimistic of him - unless, of course, you have not yet finished your work?"

Snape's soft intonations produced the same effect on the representatives of the various vendors as they did on his students.  Harry understood why.  When he appeared in the hallway still in his regular clothes after downing a hasty lunch, Snape had only to flick his eyes ever so slightly from Harry to the nearest timepiece for him to get the message.  Harry immediately decided he would bathe and change into his own dress robes before laying Remus' out to await his return.

****

Remus and Catherine slipped in the side door in mid-afternoon, separating to go to their respective rooms to dress for the ceremony.  Harry had everything laid out for the groom, nervous again in case he had forgotten something in his unfamiliar role.  There wouldn't be much time to fix anything at this point.

Much to his relief, Remus himself did not seem to be unusually nervous or edgy, but smiled kindly at Harry and calmly accepted his robes for the ceremony before heading into the bathroom to bathe and change.  Harry occupied the time trying to calm his own nerves between mentally running through the checklists again and wondering if he could properly duck out for a minute to run down and get the actual list from the study below.

His musings were interrupted by a knock on the door, which made him jump.  Deciding this was part of his duties today, Harry opened the bedroom door and found Michael Clare standing on the other side, holding a small wooden box.

"Hello, Harry," he said calmly.  "I'd like a private word with Remus some time today.  Would you let me know when it would be convenient?  After the ceremony is fine."

"Uh - " Harry glanced around for inspiration - he thought that Remus had finished dressing, but didn't know whether he'd want to have visitors before the ceremony.  "Sure," he said quickly.

"Is that Michael?" Remus called, evidently having heard Michael's voice.  "I'll be out in a minute if he'd like to wait."

Harry opened the door a bit further and stepped aside to let Catherine's brother in.  Harry wondered if he was supposed to offer him a seat, but Michael Clare had barely walked into the room when Remus emerged from the bath and crossed to greet him.  

It was Harry's first chance to see Remus in his wedding robes, and Harry was greatly relieved to see that he hadn't made any glaring mistakes in choosing them.  The old, dark gold did make Remus' amber eyes seem to sparkle, but it also made his hair look richer somehow - at least the brown parts.  The gray actually looked a bit lighter, and the simple cut of the garment suited the former professor's quiet dignity.

"It was very kind of you to agree to see me at such a time," Michael was saying.

"Not really," Remus smiled, glancing over at Harry.  "Harry has everything well in hand."

Michael smiled briefly, but warmly, at Harry before coming to what was evidently the purpose of his visit.

"There's another, well, _public_ wedding present downstairs, but I wanted to give you this myself," Michael said, handing Remus the small wooden box, which Harry now saw had an elegant design of inlaid wood on the top.  "It was our mother's first anniversary gift to our father.  The song it plays was one they danced to at their own wedding, and it was also the night she told him she was pregnant with Catherine."

Remus accepted it, looking rather shaken.  "Thank you," he said softly, and Harry could tell he was deeply moved.  "It means a great deal to me."  Michael smiled kindly at him.

"If our parents were alive, they would have been very pleased to welcome you into the family, just as I am."  

Without waiting for Remus to say anything further - which was just as well in Harry's opinion as Remus was still looking a little overwhelmed - Catherine's brother glanced over to smile at Harry inclusively before continuing.  "And now I had better excuse myself and find the rest of the family before the next generation does something unforgivable to the flowers," he finished lightly, grasping Remus' hand one more time before he left.  Harry followed him politely to the door.

When Harry turned back, Remus was staring at the box in his hands with a bemused expression on his face.

"It's very nice," Harry offered.  Remus looked up and smiled at him.

"It's beautiful," he agreed.  "And I would be just as pleased if it were the most hideous music box ever made," he confessed, laughing slightly at the thought.  "Would you take it across the hall for me?"

Harry accepted it, slightly confused.

"Harry, I won't be using this room after Kate and I are married," Remus pointed out gently.  "In fact, we were wondering if you would like to relocate over here when you come back?"

"Come back?" Harry echoed, still feeling rather stupid about not realizing that Remus and Catherine would be sharing a room.

Remus looked at him rather keenly.  "I realize that you will probably want to establish a home of your own at some point, but I hope that you will always consider this as one of your homes, even if it's not always the only one."  Harry realized that Remus was saying he could come here after he graduated instead of striking out on his own, and felt a surge of gratitude that his one-time professor was still a part of his life.

"I would like that very much," Harry replied, his voice a little thick, before turning abruptly to carry the music box across the hall.

It seemed very odd to have Snape open the door to Catherine Clare's room.

"Yes," he intoned, frowning.

"Remus wanted me to bring this over."  

The Potions Master opened the door further to admit Harry, who stepped inside wondering why Snape hadn't just taken it and whether he could set it down somewhere.  Catherine Clare, who seemed to be already dressed as well, was standing on the opposite side of the room by the fireplace looking rather more nervous than Harry thought Remus had.  She looked over at him as soon as he came in.

"Harry?" she asked, crossing the room quickly.  "Is everything all right?"

"Fine," he assured her quickly.  "Remus just asked me to bring this over, that's all.  I guess he's not supposed to come over himself," he finished awkwardly.  Some of the tension seemed to leave her as she looked at the music box.

"Michael gave it to him?"

"Yeah, I, er - Remus seemed to be very pleased.  I think he wanted to make sure nothing happened to it," Harry explained.  "What should I, er - "

"Just set it on the desk," she told him, perching uneasily on one of the chaises in front of the window.  Harry did so, noticing that Snape looked at him rather thoughtfully before strolling over to help himself to a drink from a tray near the fireplace, where he would be out of earshot of a low-voiced conversation.  Hesitating slightly, Harry sat down beside her.

"Are you - is there anything I can do for you?" Harry ventured.  Catherine shot him a very distracted look.

"No, I just have to get through this," she said absently.

_Get through this?_  Harry felt a wave of cold wash over him.

"Don't you want to be married to Remus?" he asked quietly, trying not to sound too accusatory.  Catherine looked at him as if he were being remarkably thick.

"Of _course_ I want to be married to Remus," she said instantly, sounding rather irritated.  "I'm just not thrilled about what I have to do to get married!  I have to walk down the stairs with everyone watching me and I just know I'll do something disgraceful - like trip - especially since you're not supposed to be looking down - which is absolutely ridiculous because how are you supposed to walk down stairs without falling when you're nervous and you're not allowed to look at them?"  

Once Harry absorbed the idea that she was only nervous about the ceremony, he tried to think of what he could say to make her feel better.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Catherine apologized immediately.  "I shouldn't have dumped all that on you.  It's just nerves.  I mean, it's not as if they won't let me marry him if I do trip, and that's really all that matters."

"That's okay," Harry told her, still trying to think of what to say and wondering what Remus would do if he were here.  "It may be more people than you expected for your wedding, but it's still only friends and family, and they all _want_ you and Remus to get married.  Nobody's going to care if you trip, they just wanted to be there with you."

Catherine smiled at him, apparently calmer now.  "Thank you, Harry."

****

Catherine didn't trip.  

Harry thought she looked rather nervous again until she saw Remus, but when their eyes met, she smiled and walked down the stairs to stand at his side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  Remus was rather pale as he said his vows, although his voice was quite steady, and he didn't begin to regain his color until the officiant pronounced them husband and wife.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur.  There was always someone for him to speak to, although he could never recollect later what anyone had said.  All Harry retained were isolated images - Ginny's eyes laughing up into his as they danced - Snape looking oddly relaxed as he spoke quietly with a woman later identified as the widow of Catherine's partner - Ron and Hermione revolving solemnly around the floor without speaking - Tonks reshaping her nose repeatedly at dinner while the werewolf Harry remembered sharing Mr. Weasley's hospital room smiled at her very tentatively - and then Stade was gesturing him over and telling him that he was wanted upstairs.  He was barely aware of the new portrait in the hall - a white-haired wizard in old-fashioned dress robes - as he went by, although he did respond politely to its greeting.

Catherine and Remus, wearing everyday robes instead of their wedding ones, were seated on the sofa in front of the fireplace in their bedroom.  Catherine had tucked her legs under her and was curled up against her new husband, but she sat up properly when Harry came in causing Remus, who had his arm around her, to look up.

"There you are, Harry," he said pleasantly, looking very pleased.  "I'm glad we didn't miss seeing you before we leave."

"I didn't realize it was time already."  Remus chuckled and stood up, pulling Catherine to her feet as he did.

"Good, then maybe we have a fair chance of getting away before the crowd downstairs realizes we're escaping," he told Harry drolly.  "We should have done this before the ceremony, but things were a little rushed."  

Snape came in to join them just as Harry asked, "Done what?"  Catherine was the one who answered him.

"It's traditional for the couple to give their attendants a memento of the occasion," she explained, stepping over to four neatly wrapped packages piled near the window.  They were all covered in silvery paper, but two had red bows and two had green.  When the first two identically-sized packages were opened, Harry discovered an elegant silver letter opener engraved with the date and his initials.  The handle of his was a Gryffindor Lion enameled in red and gold, while Snape's handle was a green and silver snake.

As Harry was thanking Remus, the bridegroom - his amber eyes alight - told him in an undertone, "It's also customary for the mementos to be useless and engraved!"  Harry grinned.

His other present was unexpected, for Remus had given him what appeared to be a very nice wizarding camera.  There were a number of attachments for it, and also a supply of ingredients for Developing Potions.

"I wanted to make sure you had an opportunity to take pictures of the important people in your life," Remus told him quietly.  

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice thick.  Remus hugged him.  Harry blinked hard as he hugged him back, determined not to get teary in front of Snape.  

He turned to face the Potions Master and saw that he was staring down at Catherine's second gift to him in disbelief.  Harry wasn't sure what was so remarkable about it - it appeared to be just an old book - but Snape's hand was almost trembling as he touched the cover.

"I'm afraid I can't give it to you for more than your lifetime - it will come back here upon your death no matter what I do - and you're the only one who will be able to use it while you're alive," Catherine was telling him.  Reverently, he opened it and began to turn the pages, his expression of disbelief fading as something closer to avarice replaced it.

"_Panacea Hildegardis_ - I had all but concluded that one was only a legend - _Lapis clarus - _Translucent Stone is a potion?"  Snape demanded, his voice harsh with excitement.

"Actually a potion combined with a charm, which is why no one has ever been able to duplicate it without the instructions."  Snape's fingers clung to the book Catherine had given him as he listened to her.  "Now you have them.  If you want to get some work in while you're here, you can find the stone cauldrons and some of the more obscure ingredients in the expanded potions lab."

Severus regarded her with narrowed eyes.  "_Expanded_ potions laboratory?" he inquired darkly.

Catherine smiled at him.  "Why, yes," she replied sweetly.  "You can unlock it only when entering from the billiards room.  The password is '_Victrix feles_'."  Snape stared at her wordlessly for a moment before turning on his heel and striding out of the room.  

Just as he reached the threshold, he turned and said "Thank you" very stiffly before closing the door smartly behind him.

Catherine pressed her hands over her mouth to smother her giggles.  Remus was grinning at her as pulled her into his arms.

"You seem to have won that round," he told her affectionately.  "No regrets about spilling the family secrets?"

Kate's eyes danced.  "Not even if he tried to take them public, which he won't.  And to be fair about it, he _is_ much better at potions than anyone in the family.  Maybe he'll be able to get some use of it."  She linked her hands behind her husband's neck and added, "I intend to be otherwise occupied."

Remus was looking at his wife with an expression in his eyes that made Harry think he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the room.  Harry slipped quietly out the door and shut it softly behind him.

-- END --

A/N - Thank you to my reviewers for your interest and support.  I am going to try to repay your kindness to me by spending a little more time reviewing other authors while I get some other pieces in shape to begin posting.  I am working on two other HP fanfic stories at the moment - one of which is related to this one - but I'm not sure which will be the first to get to the point where I'm willing to make it available for comment.  

The related story includes Severus Snape's point of view on some of the events in _The Stone House Cats_, although it continues further into the future than this one and contains a romance for the Potions Master - not the easiest thing to write credibly, I'm finding.  Severus needs to grow up a little before he's ready for an adult relationship.  

The unrelated one provides a different romantic interest for Remus (with all due respect to Catherine Clare, of whom I'm still very fond) as I wanted to see him in something closer to a normal courtship.  While I thought the way things progressed between Remus and Catherine was appropriate for their characters and this story, there was a part of me that wanted to hit him over the head sometimes for being a little _too_ self-effacing.  I think that if James or Sirius had been around, they would have been more than willing to take care of that for me - which is one more reason to miss Padfoot!


End file.
